Between Friends
by bbysonpan
Summary: Another adulthood-esque fic. Identity crises & long talks. [08/2016 Update: New format! Will be revising previous chapters.] [Trunks/Pan. Goten/Marron. Bra/Uub.]
1. Part I - Chapter 1

_Between Friends_ —

Rated: M (for obvious reasons)

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything related to the DragonBall franchise.

Summary: Another adulthood-esque fic. Identity crises & long talks.

Pairings: Trunks/Pan. Goten/Marron. Bra/Uub.

Note: Hi, this is my first DBZ-related fic and I doubt I'll ever figure out the plot completely. Writing as we go! ( **08/2016 Updates** : new formatting and rewrites on previous chapters. _All_ replied reviews  & author notes have been posted on my Tumblr page. I just wanted to focus on the writing, please.)

* * *

 ** _CHAPTER 1_  
** Late April | 259 Days Before

Muzzled sounds of telephone calls, endless typing, brushes of paper, and other usual noises of a busy office floated around the chrome desk fixtures and spotless ten-foot windows. It was an hour past noon, and a perfectly cloudless blue sky day was going to waste as everyone worked in their cubicles. He only managed a short sigh, knowing a day like this came in a dime of a dozen. It was a very adult world at the Capsule Corp. Business Building.

Trunks nodded to a few familiar faces, pushing the faux-glasses his mother had given him on his first day as president up against the bridge of his nose. He was only a kid then.

 _You'll look more grown up!_ her encouragement echoed through his head. His initial plan had been to just entertain her. _Much better! As glad as I am that you have my charm and your father's blood runs through your veins, looking young doesn't help you play the part of being a mature, serious business leader_. She would've given him a gold star if she could.

He then remembered his father coughing and chuckling all at the same time. The old man had been carrying his three year old sister with his mere finger from the arm of the couch at the time.

 _Mature? SERIOUS?! The boy should be training while he actually does have his youth instead of writing his name on papers all day!_ _He's an heir to a warrior race! A son of a prince! A prince HIMSELF, and you... you want him to sit in an office all day!_

His mother only rolled her eyes as she sat the back of her hands on her hips in a huff. They had been arguing over him taking over the office long before he even graduated high school. His mother wanted him to be the president, and his father wanted him to be a warrior.

 _He's not just your son, Vegeta! He's half of ME. He's an heir to MY legacy too. Unless he has some intergalactic work that needs to be done for your planet, he's doing his duties for the planet we're on now. Got that?!_

But the old man had already sunk into the couch, closing his eyes with his little sister laying on top of him. Since Bra had been born, his father slept better with loud noises. Before, he would've grunted and left back to the artificial Gravity Room, ignoring his mother—but then, he simply dozed off. Sometimes he thought he picked fights with her on purpose.

Trunks signaled his secretary to cancel the rest of his meetings for the day, getting a headache from the memory. In addition to the endless chatter of mergers and propositions from earlier, there was a stack of paperwork ready to greet him. His entire morning, along with his pitiful his lunch break, was spent sitting in front of a long table with board members, team leaders, bland never-ending PowerPoints, and people who were even less enthusiastic than he was on a Tuesday morning.

He was ready to take a _nap_.

As the Brief heir walked into his office, he thanked his long-time secretary who was always sympathetic to his in-need-of-sleep cause. Karolina Olive had been his mother's secretary for as long as he remembered—she even babysat _him_ while his mother was enduring the same mornings. Nonetheless, she understood all too well.

When he had taken over Capsule Corp. at the ripe age of nineteen, it was Ms. Olive who helped him gain a routine for the paperwork. Like his mother when she was younger, he had taken a bigger bite than he could've possibly swallowed (even with his alien appetite).

Within the first week, he found himself suffocating under employees who undermined him and other execs who thought of him as naive. His wall looked like the line to the bathroom of a noisy club—tired, anxious, and possibly drunk people chattering amongst themselves whilst ambitiously glaring at the room door ahead of them. It was ridiculous.

Trunks had been going over some new contracts when he was about to scream. He didn't remember discussing _any_ of the newly fine print with his mother and he felt like he was losing his mind. _How could he forget projects that were being created before he arrived? Who was he kidding?_

Confused at the mistake but too proud to admit it, Trunks spent two hours trying to understand half the gibberish he was reading. Then, he called in the graying fifty-year-old woman in, trying to play off his ignorance by asking her who exactly dropped the papers off on his desk.

She said _she_ did.

He then asked her _who_ handed her the papers.

She said the _mail-room boy_ handed to her.

For a moment, he wondered if he needed actual prescription glasses, or maybe it was about time he let her go. She only looked at him with pity.

He had been sitting there with his eyebrows furrowed, biting his inner cheek—a habit he had when something frustrated him—trying to figure out the company that sent the papers. He didn't recognized the logo, didn't even know the _name_!

With her infamous _tsk-tsk_ , Ms. Olive asked if she could see the papers and as soon as she read them it was just as she suspected! (For some reason. He honestly didn't know.)

So the lavender-haired boy looked at her curiously, and she returned a heartwarming smile, one that he remembered her having every time she snuck him a piece of candy from her desk, like a prize he won if he waited long enough to listen.o

"Oh, it's just your typical corporate leeches trying to get the Brief heir to fund their ridiculous ideas," her New Jersey accent thick as she explained. She began underlining some random words with her wrinkled finger, showing him as if it was _oh-so-obvious_. He was too tired to even read it. By that time, he waited until she went into detail as she normally did.

"They want to raise a _sea-monkey aquarium_! For _2 million_ zeni! How _ridiculous_ is that? I say just get a glass bowl and grow the little suckers in there yourself. They're not as interesting as they seem!" He noticed she talked with a head bob, making circular motions when she emphasized a word. Ms. Olive began chuckling, and he naturally followed.

He didn't understand Ms. Olive half the time, but he remembered why he wouldn't let her go. Her thinking was refreshing, and even her laugh—the random song of pig snorts and high-pitched _oh my goodness!'s_ never got old to him. She—in a building of overly-trained scientists, over-qualified lawyers, and even overly-skilled mail room personnel—was a breath of fresh air. Professional, obviously. But she was a real voice, one that cared more about things than just work.

In his seventeen years as the company's president, he always found comfort in her small jokes and understanding nature. It was different. The happy woman finished with a story about how his mother almost signed off to build a well in the middle of the ocean, howling in amusement.

"The _ocean_! Of all places! Like you can just step _an inch_ out and touch water!" she waved her hand as if there was an actual ocean beside her. With the way she talked, he could feel the salty breeze against his face.

They laughed some more and she told him to not repeat an actual word of the story to his mother. He nodded; he never did. Like his father about his fighting capabilities, his mother was proud of her work and wanted to be remembered as the best.

She was, of course. Though, he figured some of the help was due to Ms. Olive in some ways. The secretary shuffled everyone out of his floor, telling them he would only take in appointments. She then called him on the phone, telling him to rest easy for the remainder of the day.

Trunks was now thirty-six. More vetted in the world of business acquisitions and company takeovers than he ever was, but still liking the fact that Ms. Olive called in to say, "Go ahead. Rest easy."

"Thanks," he told her before silencing his phone.

Trunks stretched his long arms and torso towards his desk, almost ready to call it a day. He was tired, but there was still things to be done. A small break wouldn't have hurt though.

His late-grandfather now replaced his mother's voice in his head. He could hear the humble scientist say, _Take a breath of air and look out your window once in awhile! I didn't choose this place to just work_.

He continued to tell the younger that this office had a private seat at one of the highest points of the city, and it would be a shame if he left it as simply as a backdrop to his paperwork. There were always be another stack waiting for him. He might as well appreciate it while he could.

On the last days he was able to spend with the beloved grandfather, Trunks promised. When he passed, he kept it. Every other day, he sat at his chair and looked at the horizon of West City to honor the old man. He admitted, it helped a lot. He felt more put together.

He turned back to his desk, and watched a sleek computer screen rose up from the slick desk after pressing a red button. He took out the keyboard tucked in the front compartment and placed it under his fingers. He wasn't planning on continuing his work. Not yet. He was catching up on his friends and family the only way that seemed possible nowadays: social media.

Trunks typed in the familiar domains and watched in strange awe as his timelines began to move with great pace. People were updating their statuses, making commentary on their lives. He found it fascinating.

Granted, his _main_ use for the platforms—as advised from the PR department as a Hollywood starlet went from the D-list to the A-list once she upgraded her B-cups to C's—was for product promotions and researching popular trends. Nothing more, nothing less. He was a private person anyway, but something in him felt rebellious when they told him to be careful of liking crude 6 second videos of animals and curvaceous women doing something called twerking. He never clicked on a heart, but he was tempted.

Nonetheless, he was an honorable man. He respected their rules and trusted their judgement. That was what he paid for them to do, after all. Once scrolling down bored him after a minute or two, he sought out the customer feedback on of Capsule Corp. products in stores now—a television set that was a dual microwave, noise-cancelling earphones that were discreet, and other miscellaneous items he had faith in to take over the markets and they did. Some said different, but there was always that one loud voice on every platform, telling people they were supporting military warfare if they purchased something as simple as a pack of _gum_. He tried not to dwell on that voice.

When that was out the way, he checked small local businesses for possible investments. Those promoting restaurants usually caught his eye, so he would bookmark their physical addresses to try out with his friends later.

He checked for the occasional 'meme' that always made him laugh regardless if it was simple or absurd; checked for any major news from old friends in high school so he could send the casual ' _Congratulations!_ ' comment; checked for current news on the economy; checked the celebrities that interested him; checked the latest fashion trends for both men and women; and went so far to even check if there was any menial holiday he could wish to the fans that followed his accounts religiously. There was nothing, so he bid them all a good day.

After another five minutes of refreshing pages that didn't change, Trunks logged into his secret personal accounts, and checked on the social updates from his family and friends who were aware of the unoriginal grey silhouette being his icon. He began reading from where he left off the day before.

Today, his beloved best friends, Goten and Marron were hanging out in a zoo in Australia for no reason at all. He guessed being in a committed twenty-four year old relationship just called for the occasional, spontaneous trip.

His mother, as busy as she was in her lab at home, had the time to show everyone the cutesy selfie she took with his father, arms crossed in the background. He made the effort to press ' _like_ ' out of obligation.

His sister, Bra, was thinking of adopting of a puppy as she sat at the movies, in which Krillin commented that they already had an entire park of animals at their compound. She didn't reply but it lead to her own high school friends asking if she had a dinosaur. They had five, but Trunks wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

He scrolled down a little more and saw that Uub—along with Mr. Satan at his ripe age, Goku, and Gohan—were helping Pan move into her first apartment in the city. He paused, hovering his cursor over the highlighted names tagged in the post. He grumbled at himself.

Curiosity caught the best of the thirty-six year old man, and he had been click-baited into watching a video of the twenty-two year old Pan scaring her balding World Champion. He had been carrying her couch when she jumped up from behind a plant. The old man dropped the large furniture on his foot, whimpering in pain. Satan screamed as she tried to apologize between laughs, picking up the couch with just a single hand and placing it down beside him with ease.

The other men out of frame laughed. Trunks laughed along as if he was there too. He wish he had been. Lately, his hours at work felt longer than they were allowed to be.

Then almost as if on cue, he heard a _pat, pat, pat_ on his window. He quickly exited out of the browser and pushed the button to return the computer back to the secret slot it came from.

He turned around and was greeted by a flying quarter Saiyan in tight, black bicycle shorts, a matching black sports bra, sweatbands and a slightly worn-out hoodie with **SATAN** embroidered along its hood. Her dark, wild hair was somehow maintained in a ponytail, and she was sweating like she had risen from a pool of perspiration.

She had came from the obvious place he figured she always went to—the Gravity Room with his father. Dende knows why she was such a masochist to endure any type of training by the old man, but nonetheless, he wouldn't complain if it meant that it kept the grump busy. She floated with her hands on her hips, staring at him in the very usual Pan-like way. Annoyance usually was the Pan-like way.

"Hey! You going to invite me in or what?" she laughed, waiting for him to open his window. Trunks obliged and allowed her space to fly inside. He was hoping she would take a seat, but she was pumped up with adrenaline.

Pan paced around the room, emitting a small amount of ki to dry her skin. She told the Brief boy of how she was able to fool Vegeta into thinking he badly wounded her—in which, she seized the opportunity to deck him on the jaw. They trained at 450G, and she was ecstatic at the new pressure.

Trunks raised an eyebrow, disbelieving that they went up that high on the machine, and she assured—no, _argued_ —that if he got out of his office, then he would see the beautiful block numbers shining brightly. The numbers 4-5-0 all brilliantly red.

She exclaimed proudly, "I kicked your dad's ass today and I feel great!"

Trunks snorted as he sat at the edge of his desk, watch her do a few light cartwheels before tearing off her jacket and placing it on the white suede chair opposite of him. Once she caught her breath and finally calmed herself, she politely asked him about his meetings, what he was up to, and everything that was considered as small talk.

Pan wasn't great at small talk, however. Once he said " _Well, today_ ," she already lost interest. Trunks only proceeded to challenge her with his extensive vocabulary. The fighter nodded, pretending she knew what the hell he was talking about.

He told her about his accidental puerile yet trite benightedness of strategizing to regale a domestic spread for his favorite chum despite the fact that said chum was nowhere near the immediate Northern Hemisphere! He had Ms. Olive rescind for he was to subjugate a more surreptitious yet rife congregating. Although, he wasn't sure to serve chicken or beef when they met again.

" _Umhmm..._ " she said softly. He then went on about a poultry crisis, and, well, she wasn't paying attention. She wasn't trying to yawn, or be rude. She had a favor to ask, and she needed him to be in a good mood.

After another ten minutes, Trunks smirked to himself for half-remembering the sentence he taught himself last week. When he looked up to see Pan, her energy had finally left and her head was against the arm of the chair, peacefully resting.

* * *

Pan woke up to the sound of leather shoes being shuffled against marble floors, and she noticed her bright blue sky was now turning orange and yellow. She jumped, almost scaring the lavender-haired man with scalding beverages in his fingertips.

"What the heck, Trunks! Why didn't you wake me up?!" she questioned, and he sat back at his desk unfazed. Instead, Trunks stacked the contracts he had organized and finished in the past hour, waiting for her to do the exact same task she had requested.

"You kept saying, ' _Five minutes!_ ' but then—" he made a snore noise, making a joke of it. Pan frowned. She was a quiet sleeper, and she knew that. He only continued to mock her, "—' _Five minutes! I'll be up in five minutes!_ '"

"How long has it been?" she quietly asked, refusing to behave like a fool.

"Three hours," he answered, nodding in the direction of the coffee in the to-go cup. She raised an eyebrow and he explained that he ordered food while she was napping.

Pan pouted, "Aw, _Trunks_! Really? I wanted to get take-out and show you my new place before everyone arri—" her eyes widen. Pan panicked as she checked her phone that had been tucked inside her sports bra. She yelped, "— _Shit_! Twenty minutes ago?! C'mon!" She grabbed his arm, and he admitted she was stronger than he remembered.

"PAN! I'm holding cof— _AHHHHHHHHHH_!" he cried as the hot drink burned his neck and traveled down his shirt. He began to whimper as the splashing liquid hit his pants, specifically in the crotch area.

The girl grunted, "I'll save the apologies for later. My place, first!"

"Can't I change first?! Or at least, know who's going to be there— _at least_!" Trunks was pleading more than asking. She only tugged at his sleeve.

Pan walked towards the front door of his office and then headed for the window instead. She lived downtown in West City, which was luckily near his office and other convenient walk-to places she had been planning on showing Trunks before she dozed off— _ugh_! She was so upset for herself for napping!

"PAN!" he yelled her name. She grimaced a look. Trunks paused and lowered the volume of his voice, regretting the tone and coughing. "Just let me call security to let him know I'm leaving by air, alright?"

She wordlessly huffed and let him go. The Brief heir sat back down, making the short call to the only guard taking a nighttime shift.

When Trunks got up, he felt a gust of wind by his shins and thought what strange air-conditioning it was. He then saw her legs running in mid-air, ready to set off. He simply nodded his head and she grabbed his arm, whisking him away. They were gone in a matter of seconds. He even forgot to hang up the phone.

Trunks knew he could fly a bit faster, but he thought it was wise to not question Pan in her panic. He wouldn't try to calm down a regular human girl at this state. Trying to calm down a superhuman that had the ability to incinerate his entire flesh? No, thanks. He let her drag him in the wind.

They landed in an alley a block away from Pan's apartment. The familiar scent of robust tomato sauce and buttered garlic caused Trunks to immediately recognize one of his favorite places to lunch. His mouth watered in excitement.

"No way! You live near here? I come here all the ti—"

She cut him off with another tug of his arm, indicating that the coast was clear. They ran across the street to a surprisingly lavish building completed with a doorman, chubby stone angel cupid statues, and a blood-red carpet that ran from the lobby to the street. He only took a glance, but Pan already knew the strangeness of _her_ living in a place like this.

To be fair, she did prefer _not_ to overuse her inheritance from her grandfather. Her parents raised her modestly, and she did indeed liked microwaving her own bowl of mac n' cheese instead of having some cook use truffle oil and heavy cream.

" _However_ ," she explained, "My Grandpa Satan bought a penthouse for some dirt cheap price last year and never realized he had it until he talked to his accountant last week. I was already apartment hunting, so he just came over and gave me the key. No questions asked. Lease and everythin— _listen_ , I'm paying him back by working in his gym since my mom quit martial arts long ago," she justified, a little embarrassed. She crossed her arms, feeling much more vulnerable than she would've liked.

Trunks understood her need to explained herself, remembering all the times Pan sat out of going on extravagant trips with his family and their friends because she didn't feel right not chipping in some way. She didn't even let him buy her a bottle of water when she was thirsty. Pan would rather suffer in a heat stroke than ask for help.

Bra never understood it, but he got it somewhat.

Like him, Videl was raised with an almost unlimited amount of money. Gohan, meanwhile, lived off the land of his mountain village. He, Goten, and Goku made it a game to catch the biggest fish almost every night for dinner. Videl spent more time wandering around her fifty-roomed house, talking to the temporary help, than she ever did with her father. The Sons practically lived in one of their small rooms with each other, never tiring of the company. Videl was always questioning the motives of her so-called friends. Meanwhile, Trunks watched as Goten and Gohan befriended some of the most dangerous threats without ever being bitten.

He used to think of it bizarre when he was younger—when Goten would effortlessly fly around and greeted random animals by first name. What was even _weirder_ was that the animals responded to him, shared things in their own language that his best friend somehow understood.

All things aside, the Sons were freaks of nature—all bubbly, incredibly strong, and terribly even more innocent as they aged. He accepted that. They were their own species, those friends of his.

However, as he himself got older, Trunks began to appreciate the humbleness that were the Sons and their way of living. He even spent an entire summer camping out every night in their mountain village, despite the fact that he could've easily done the same thing in the arborium of his family's compound. It was hard to explain, but there was just something _right_ about the way they lived.

The Son-Satan family mix only seemed relish in the strangeness. Eventually, all ended up growing really close to each other. Blood members, and unrelated aliens alike. They were like a humanized version of a holiday greeting card, constantly recruiting lost souls to join their cult. Trunks would've been happily brainwashed if he didn't have his pride.

In his teen years, he would pick up Goten from Gohan's place and stumbled upon three grown men pretending to fight to win the affection of the young girl—all while she cared less. She would be sitting with her adoptive Namekian grandfather, making funny faces to their once great foe, Majin Buu. The pink beast only re-arranged his puddy-like features to make her laugh. It was a ridiculous sight, but the genuineness and immense fondness Trunks felt stepping in, warmed up the house. Even he, an heir of both power and fortune, couldn't put a price or come close in having the magic of Gohan and Videl's home.

So, Trunks understood Pan.

He respected that she refused to take handouts without giving something in return. Even his father liked that she would rather earn everything she had then simply be on the receiving end (which usually after stated, Vegeta would throw a cheap look to the younger hybrid). She was raised with a pride of hard work and kindness, and he admired that about her.

But still—looking around the lobby, the place felt... _expensive_. It made him feel inadequate in his coffee-stained shirt.

For one, it was a lobby with a fountain that didn't even have water. It was simply just polished as a marble decoration. There was a seating area, which wasn't uncommon, but one with a constantly catered snack table was. Three chandeliers hung elegantly from the ceiling that made the Sistine Chapel look like it was colored with crayon. Live plants were kept so well that no leaves were less than green, and a bundle of complementary embroidered towels were placed in decorative ceramic bowls on matching marble tables. It was every bit of the word _ritzy_ , and then some.

 _Completely unlike Pan_ , he thought to himself.

Trunks looked up at the elevator light that the dark-haired girl seemed irritated by. The light was stuck on **6** and the arrow was pointing upwards. She lived on the twenty-fifth floor, and it seemed that she left her patience there. She began to tap her foot, and the Pan-like face came on again.

The Brief heir looked around, saw a sign for the stairs, and asked if she would rather use them instead. She turned her head with a mischievous thought brewing in her mind. She smiled with a crooked smirk and said, "I got a better idea."

They walked back out into another alley. This time it was a slit where the trash took up most of the space and Trunks frowned at Pan.

"What are we doing here? Did you forget your lunch or something?" he pretended to whine, and that cracked a small, genuine grin on her determined face. No trouble in it whatsoever.

" _Just_ —" she sighed, and grabbed his arms from behind, wrapping herself in them without so much of a syllable. Thankfully, she couldn't see him blush at the touch her bare stomach; fingers blazing at the contours of her abs.

"Hold on tight!" she cried and off they went.

They reached the ledge of the 25th floor. Trunks still held on as Pan floated in the air without his body weight affecting her. It seemed like today was just the day to forget that he, Trunks Brief, definitely had the power to hold himself in mid-air and soar as well.

Pan touched every window until she found the trick one that opened without a lock. She excitedly clapped for herself and retreated once she realized his head was over her shoulder, staring at the window.

She _then_ realized that he had been holding her the whole time with only tight spandex and a thin summer cotton suit between their... _areas_.

The fighter turned and looked at him, and he was already staring. Their noses touched. She could practically smell the coffee from his shirt and get a caffeine high by simple proximity. Then, a face came about on Pan. She was squinting, her mouth was frowning, and she was stabbing him with her eyes.

"Uh, P-Pan? Are you— _ow_! _What the fuck_!" Trunks cursed, letting go of her waist and losing his footing. He was falling now and he was sure he was going to die. In trash. What a cleverly ironic way to perish.

"You can fly, you doofus!" Pan yelled and he barely missed the pavement.

Remembering his own speed, he jolted up a second faster than she did, rubbing the back of his head modestly. It was the same naive ' _oops_ ' gesture she recalled her Grandpa Goku doing all the time before he apologized to her grandma.

Pan shook her head, opening the window and climbing in with Trunks following behind. The room was dark, but her tall windows brought in the moonlight. He looked around, unable to distinguish where walls began and ended. Everything was in the shadows.

She stumbled around the walls until she felt a switched and turned it on. Then Trunks understood why her room both felt endless and empty. She hadn't even unpacked her bed sheets yet and her labeled boxes were scattered in far away walls. Not to mention, her _room_ was as big as the lobby's downstairs.

Pan noticed the look on his face, feeling the same meekness from earlier. To amaze even the richest guy in the world was a comment in itself on how excessive it all seemed. Her walk-in closet, though every girl's dream and even more spectacular, just reminded her that she hadn't really cared much or even owned enough to fill up a shelf.

Trunks fell onto her sheet-less bed. Just as he suspected—it was wonderfully soft and contouring to every muscle he had. He then looked up and saw the high ceiling. For once, despite that he grown considerably tall against the fact that his parents were short, he felt incredibly small in her room.

"Pays off to be a spawn of Satan, doesn't it?" he asked, inattentively. She couldn't decide if it was a joke and a genuine comment. She then slapped him in his gut, and suddenly memories of his father tormenting him flooded his brain.

"Get up! There are important things at hand, Trunks!"

" _Five more minutes!_ " he mimicked her from earlier. She rolled her eyes and tugged on his leg, but he only held harder to the bedpost. His sleepiness had caught up with him finally. "Five more minutes! _Please_!" he squealed more genuinely.

" _Trunks_! You overgrown _man-child_!" spat Pan as she pulled. When he didn't let up, she remembered something that hadn't bothered her for some time now. She let go of the Brief boy and his face plastered onto the soft mattress, sighing in contentment. He then looked up to see Pan had been stripping off her clothes.

"Pan, what are you doing?! Go to the bathroom!" he yelled with an uneven voice. She rolled her eyes, taking off a sweatband and tossing it to him.

Trunks expected the small, black fabric to be like any other sweatband. Gentle when it touched his face, barely making any difference. Maybe it was sweet smelling like how Pan smelled.

Unfortunately, he learned that she had taken in the methods of her Grandpa Piccolo and Goku. He tried his best not to show fear as the piece of weighted clothing dented a crater in her headboard.

200 kilos.

She threw the one on her left hand, and remembering to protect himself this time, Trunks covered his face again. Her aim wasn't there though.

200 kilos, to his potential bank of children.

He stood up to dodge and block her attacks. 200 kilos was easy, even though the feeling down below was becoming a little numb. Pan smiled at his challenge, step out of her boots and got the sweatband from her ankles.

"Ready?" she smirked, daring him almost. He returned the look.

"Always," he said, giving her a Vegeta-esque prideful half-smile. Pan laughed at the resemblance.

" _Cute_ ," she told him. He was then off-guarded by the compliment as she flung the fabric at him. He had caught sweatband. Barely.

She threw another of her ankle sweatbands and he caught it impressively, chuckling and telling her that she would probably wanted to train with something heavier if she wanted _real_ resistance.

"Oh?" she belted innocently.

"Yup! I mean, maybe these slowed you down today. 800 kilos is practically 1 ton! That's impressive," he said and she waited for him to say one of the things she hated the most. "... for _a girl,_ I mean."

Pan got reached down for her left 3.5 ton boot and threw it at him. Then when he got up again, she threw the right. She held her nose up high and slapped the dust off her fingers. Trunks barely twitched as he laid helplessly on her bed, unable to make sense of what happened.

"And those are just my sweatbands and boots," she said matter-of-factly. She unzipped the weight she had been carried on her chest and then unzipped the one she had also worn over her workout shorts. She threw them both at Trunks, who had been sinking along with the bed. She walked over and picked up her belongings, setting them down on the floor with ease.

Trunks couldn't even blink. He had been dazed by the weights and the fact that she had them on the entire time. He could only imagine what her actual strength and speed must have been. Along with mastering on how to mask her ki by her grandfather and training with his own father, he couldn't even _assume_ what it was.

"And by the way, I told you I've been working out in the Gravity Room at 450G. That's fifty-three tons my actual weight, so these were actually light! I wore them in the GR and your dad made the same mistake of thinking I was helpless. Better wise up," she told him, rather than said. He sighed. She was right, but it was one ' _for a girl_ ' slip that he had in a very long time.

Pan then went to her walk-in closet and ripped open the box that had been labeled **FIGHTING CLOTHES**. She took off her shorts and slid into the sweats that had been pressed against the bottom. She picked up one of her crop tops and then decided to be fine in just her sports bra and sweats.

Speaking of which, a _ding_ came out of bra and then she realized the ongoing plan tonight where she played a crucial part.

 _Ding, ding, ding ding ding ding ding._

Her phone had turned itself off again and restarted.

 _Ding, ding, ding ding ding ding._

All her texts were from Bra and Goten, asking if her place was ready by now. They had been stalling Marron for almost three hours, and her best friend wasn't going to lose it if they saw another documentary about ostriches. She slid her thumb across the screen, but as her phone unlocked, it died again. She knew she shouldn't have taken it inside the GR.

Trunks came into the closet; one hand covering his eyes, and another holding his phone and knocking on the door. Pan could hear Bra yelling and the setting wasn't even on speaker. She got up and grabbed the phone from him. He opened his eyes to the large storage space in front of him.

" _Whoa_ ," slipped off his tongue. He didn't even think his mother's closet was as spacious, but then again, maybe it was just empty. Pan had exactly one box inside her closet and all it read was **FIGHT** on one of the panels.

 _Of course_ , he thought.

He looked in the box casually, like it had been his own clothes inside and he had been moving in. Luckily, like Videl, Pan used to wear baggy clothes that were twice her actual size when she began training. Sweats had elastic waistbands—so technically, they _could've been_ his clothes. He saw his coffee-stained shirt again and looked at the box. Then at Pan. Then box again.

She wasn't dressed up so maybe wearing a suit wasn't a necessary part of the evening. She made a big deal about it though. He wasn't sure.

Pan sighed, leaning against the closet door.

On the other side of the line, Goten had came out of the theater and Bra threatened him to go back to stall the blonde. He said he didn't know how!

"You're her _boyfriend_! Just go make out with her, geez!" Bra snapped before returning to her call. "So listen, Uub said he left the box by your couch. Got that? Please, please, _please_ Panna! Just let yourself pretend you're me and indulge in decorating! It has to be pretty, okay? _Pan_?!"

Pan knew what to do but she caught the blue eyes of the person in the closet with her. Her eyebrows furrowed, mouthing a _what?_ to him. He pointed to the box.

"Pan? _Pan_!" Bra yelled and her attention came back to her friend. Bra instructed her again. "You got tha—"

"Is this a dress up party kind of thing? Because technically you're just in a bra," Trunks said loudly and his sister's ears poked up like a curious puppy.

"Why are you just in your bra? Is that my brother?" Bra interrogated. "Are you guys _having sex_?!" The people in the movie theater looked at her as they grabbed their children. The blue-haired girl felt her inherited short-temper coming up.

"I am _not_ having sex with your brother," Pan replied back to her, sighing coolly. Trunks squinted his eyes in her direction, and then changed his view to the ground when she darted them back. Pan knew he heard that; she said it loud enough.

She trailed back inside her bedroom as Trunks stood unsure in her closet. _Was she going to change_? _Would it be okay if he got comfortable_?

He gave a minute—well, a second, and he decided to strip down. He folded his suit on top of the island in her closet and then dig into the box. He grabbed a grey shirt about his size and black sweatpants. When he looked in the mirror, he saw a picture of Hercule Satan on the shirt and held in his laughter.

Pan flew in, realizing that for once, she had the freedom to do whatever she want in her home. She handed Trunks his phone and then stared at his shirt. She held in her giggle to tell him the state of emergency. They had thirty minutes to get her living room to look _welcoming_ and _romantic_.

"Are you up for the challenge, Trunks?!" she asked enthusiastically, balling up her fists trying to contain herself. She loved challenges, and twenty minutes was enough.

He gulped.

* * *

 _End._


	2. Part I - Chapter 2

_Between Friends_ —

Rated: M (for obvious reasons)

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything related to the DragonBall franchise.

Summary: Another adulthood-esque fic. Identity crises & long talks.

Pairings: Trunks/Pan. Goten/Marron. Bra/Uub.

Note: Hi, this is my first DBZ-related fic and I doubt I'll ever figure out the plot completely. Writing as we go! ( **08/2016 Updates** : new formatting and rewrites on previous chapters. _All_ replied reviews  & author notes have been posted on my Tumblr page. I just wanted to focus on the writing, please.)

* * *

 ** _CHAPTER 2_  
** Late April | (Still) 259 Days Before

Trunks adjusted his faux-glasses once more, getting one last look at his and Pan's work. He let out a satisfied sigh as he admired the lights, the candles, the photographs, the flowers... He had to admit, he was pretty damn proud of himself. Of them, really.

Pan looked at the tall man beside her inquisitively. She then let out a snort that caused him to face her.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Those glasses," she smiled to herself. She felt his gaze still stuck on her and she chuckled a small laugh. "They just remind me of my dad, that's all."

He bit his inner cheek, not wanting to let his curiosity get the best of him again. So as usual, he let his arrogance do it.

"I look good, don't I?" he smirked, waggling his eyebrows too. He would've added a wink, but he felt it was a bit much.

Pan shook her head and rolled her eyes—but a slight smile came on her lips. Maybe it was because she knew Trunks better than most people, probably even better than his best friend (which was saying _a lot_ considering that the two shared a single body from time to time). But Pan just knew better to let his false bravado get the best of her. How else would she had been his friend for so long?

As much as everyone perceived Trunks as a "rich playboy" who could have anything he wanted and probably did, she knew that wasn't the case.

The Trunks she knew was a person who loved his mom the most, copied the mannerisms of his father because he wanted the old man to be proud of him, and was one of his little sister's best friends when he didn't have to be.

The Trunks she knew was best friends with a poor boy who lived in a mountain village, took up a corporate job and intensive training satisfy both his parents, and routinely cut his shoulder-length hair to match his late grandfather's.

 _Her_ Trunks—the one she knew better than everybody—would rather play with his aging cats and stay at home, bugging his mother in her lab or sparring with his father, than be out flaunting his wealth and trying to impress people he didn't know or care for. (She knew that because Bulma called _her_ to force him out of his room for events that were at his own house.)

He could act as cocky as he liked. She was buying it. In fact, she was a bit amused by it.

Trunks blushed, but caught himself before she noticed. He put his head up high and crossed his arms like his father to a T. "Guess I do look great if you're speechless," he said proudly, almost believing it.

Pan stared at him dumbfoundedly and held her hands on her hips. She was about to let out one of her usual annoyed comments, but she decided something entirely instead: she decided to be _nice_.

"Yeah, well, the glasses make you look smart," she smiled. This time, she caught him blushing. Trunks quickly changed the subject.

"So, are you going to tell me why we've decorated your place with candles and white rose petals? If I didn't know any better, I would think you're trying to seduce me, Panny," he joked slightly. _That_ —he had to admit—he wouldn't have minded. There was a strangeness that even he couldn't particularly explain between him and his best friend in the past two years.

The second Pan returned from her gap year at twenty years old, there was a new-found confidence that even _Vegeta_ noticed. The older Saiyan even _stopped_ sparring with her until he got to the bottom of it.

"What's wrong with you, girl? Did one of your idiotic grandfathers hand you a drug before your arrival?" he asked her without much of a cushion. "Don't even be smart with me and count out the Namek as a technicality."

Usually, she would've been frightened with his tone, ticked off of his insults of his family, but Pan opted to laugh instead. She appreciated his directness. Her casualness caught the Prince of All Saiyans _himself_ off guard. He stared at her and wondered what happened to his quick-tempered, immature, and always unfocused student.

Pan stared back at Vegeta with a half smile. By then, she had decided to quit college to her grandmother's dismay and go through a year off to train with the forgotten human fighters. It was her version of "studying abroad" for a year. (At least, that was her argument.)

Everyone thought she was crazy. They were completely confused of her so-called "summer travel plans." If she wanted to train, she had her grandpa and Vegeta at her disposal. They could've trained her into a god if she wanted. Yet, that wasn't what she cared for.

Pan saw all of it differently. She saw it as a way to take time out for herself, to grow up a bit, and to learn things she just couldn't grasp in the comfortability of her family. She had been surrounded and taught by the best before she could even say ' _kamehameha_ ' properly.

However, as great as a lot of heroes as they were, they _limited_ her.

Her best was always _their_ best, and she didn't want that. She wanted to make her own mark on the world. Her _own_ difference. Staying would have been nice—and maybe she would've learned something—but what great was it if she was living in their stories and not her own?

So, Pan set out on exploring the world, reliving some of the adventures her Grandpa Goku told her about, and cultivating her own tales.

She farmed with Tien, learned how to be assertive from Launch, spent a summer delivering milk with Master Roshi, trained with Uub at Korin's Tower, meditated with Piccolo, and even learned a few skills in the desert with Yamcha. Granted, it was admittedly true that her strength was unmatched for the-desert-bandit-turned-baseball-player, as well as everyone else she was with during her year of discovery. Nonetheless, they all knew she was in search of something else.

Tien had commented one day that the young girl reminded her so much of Goku when he was a kid seeking adventures to become stronger. Launch disagreed.

"She's already stronger than any of those dumb monkeys at that age," the at-the-time-blonde-haired woman corrected as they waved bye to Pan. "She's just looking for herself."

A year later, it seemed like she found it.

Pan had been welcomed back with a party at the Brief's compound thrown by Bra and Bulma. Everyone who she trained with was there, ecstatic to see her progress. She had took an additional two months to herself; keeping her ki low as she could so she wouldn't be found.

Nobody stood prouder than her Grandpa Goku though. He had been thankful that she lived in his childhood home and returned the four-star dragon ball to its rightful place. It was strange feeling watching the little girl they all knew grow into someone else completely—but this time around, she was a warrior in her own right and they all knew that.

A nervous and almost thirty-four year old Trunks had stood behind the crowd watching her graciously talk with guests and tell stories of her journey. He knew there was something different about her, but the thing that took him by surprise was how differently _he_ was beginning to see her.

It wasn't in the way he noticed her newly toned figure, or how he saw that the sun turned her pink delicate skin into a fighter's bronze. She was physically attractive and incredible long before she even left for _college_.

No, it was in the way she held herself with so much honor, pride, and untouchable ease. She saw herself no better than anyone, but was far too aware of her own capabilities to have considered herself weak. She was more like— _well_ —herself, if that made any sense.

The change didn't go unnoticed, especially not by Vegeta who challenged his returned student into a sparring match in the Gravity Room.

"So girl, are you going to tell me what's going on with you? The last time we saw you crying and whining in front of that weak father of yours," he said pulling into a fighting stance. She didn't care much for his unusual kindness. "Don't tell me this is a facade to hide your misery from leaving my son," he egged on. He wanted to see her snap, but it didn't work.

Pan already knew everyone teased her for her small, childish fondness of Trunks. They were close friends despite the fourteen year age difference. Maybe when she was younger, she had an undeniable crush on her best friend's older brother... What girl didn't?

She wouldn't deny it anyway. It was hard to pretend that she _didn't_ follow a young teenaged Trunks around like a puppy dog as a child. Pan admitted to herself that she would always have a soft spot for him, but for Vegeta and everyone else, they would just have to think that she grew out of it. She grew out of a lot of things when she left.

She only smirked at Vegeta, getting into her stance as well. He deepened his scowl, if he even could. Pan swore his face was permanently like that.

" _See_ , the more I looked at him, the more I realized he had your ugly mug," Pan teased. She was one of the very few people who could with Vegeta without dying intentionally. "I don't know how Bulma does it, but I sure can't look at it every day!" With that, he flung to her and she dodged his attack before simply pushing him with the energy of her palm.

Vegeta flew to the side of the GR, knocking the entire sphere on its side. His student just floated unharmed with a friendly smile. He then got up from the metal mold that held his body and laughed, twitching from the surprise.

"D-don't tell me it's me who has your affections now," he spat with a small pool of blood. He was chuckling, in his own odd way. He couldn't decide to be proud of her new skill, or angry he had been played for a fool. The old man decided on the former, considering that her trash talking was a skill she learned from him. "I refuse to have Kakarot's brat as a father-in-law," he said, flying and attempting to strike her again. That time, she let him hit her straight in the face. She didn't even flinch, or even move for that matter.

"Firstly, _ew_ ," she said, kneeing him in his gut. She then came behind and he blinked at her speed. "Secondly, I would rather have you as my teacher again anyway. Watch your step."

"Wha—"

Before he could finish his word, Pan slammed her leg against his back and caught him before he created another dent on the ship. He was still in disbelief of her strength, much less her request to train under him again.

She set him down and then proceeded to punch herself on the mouth, causing herself to bleed. She and Vegeta then left the GR and entered the party full of shocked faces. Anybody who didn't know any better assumed they beat the living shit out of each other.

That's when Trunks understood the difference between his perspective of Pan then and Pan since coming out of the room, carrying his limp father.

This time around, it was _he_ who had the crush.

Pan snapped her fingers in front of Trunk's face, waving an agitated hand until he noticed her. "Did you hear me? We have to hide! Suppress your energy or Marron will know we're here," she commanded, and he did just that. Just then, a clap of thunder shut off the lights. Neither of them noticed it had been raining when they played with the decorations Bra left. The generator would take a while to reach her floor.

"Thankfully we lit the candles before, huh?" Pan laughed, closing the coat closet door after them.

Unlike the one in her bedroom, the closet was a much tighter space. His hands gripped her bare shoulders as she walked in and stood in front of him. He was trying to create a space between them, but her bottom brushed against his thigh. Trunks tried to focus on suppressing his ki instead.

* * *

Marron pouted as she wrung her long, blonde hair dry. Goten and Bra didn't comment on the puddle being made on the metal elevator floor. The two energy-producing half-aliens remained wet out of respect for her since she didn't have the same control of her ki. After walking to Pan's place in the pouring rain—while wearing sundresses and shorts, mind you—the Krillin woman wanted nothing more than to get this day over with.

It wasn't that she was _unhappy_ at the turn of events. Marron appreciated the spontaneous Australian zoo trip with Goten, and she liked shopping with Bra when her boyfriend had to quickly leave for a "guys-only" emergency. They were going to meet up later at the theatre anyway.

She was _fine_ , even when they were sneaking into the long boring animal-related documentaries Goten and Bra told her they were excited to see. She didn't even _care_ that the two were constantly excusing themselves to take phone calls from Trunks despite the fact too. Marron didn't even _mind_ when their elevator was stuck on the eleventh floor until the generator came back on. Fourteen floors? They were practically halfway there!

Marron didn't want to be ungrateful of her life. At thirty-five, she was doing well. She had a good job at teaching at the local high school, a great furnished loft that she was proud to call her home, an even better set of friends, and the most thoughtful boyfriend to take her out on a special day. Not even her colleagues' husbands remembered something as simple as anniversaries. There wasn't much to complain about.

However, she had been _patient_ —a needed and practically _required_ skill in order to be with Saiyans. It's just after an extremely long day, especially on her twenty-fourth anniversary, all she wanted to do was sit down and relax. Maybe soak in a warm bath as a cake baked in the oven. She would even walk in the rain some more if it meant going home; the fact that she lost the feelings of her legs about two blocks before they arrived was way out of mind. _Way_.

She loved Pan— _very much so_ —but it's just, maybe, her new place wasn't as interesting to her. At the moment, at least. The complimentary towel of her building provided was really fancy, and she wouldn't mind returning another day. Tomorrow, even. She just wanted _today_ to be over with. That's all.

"Oh, damn! It's my mom," Bra cursed as the elevator opened to the twenty-fifth floor. The Brief heiress pressed her phone to her ear while remaining in the elevator, mumbling something to the receiver. It was a small hallway that only fit five people at a time, so Marron knew she didn't hear any kind of ring. Bra still pretended to go on as if she was really talking to her mother. Goten fumbled in his pocket for the copy of Pan's keys.

When he finally got it, Marron furrowed her eyebrows at the darkness of Pan's penthouse. There was a faint light, but she felt like she was intruding in something private. "Goten," she whispered, grabbing onto him. "Are you sure she's even home?"

"Just trust me, Mare," Goten said with a determined look. She raised a brow, but thought best to not question him. At least, by the end of this visit, they'll be home. Hopefully. She put on her most friendliest smile and followed behind him. Now she wished she brought some kind of cheese platter for the housewarming. She felt a bit inconsiderate.

Bra came out of the elevator, but stayed in the hallway. Goten guided Marron closer to the light. If she wasn't mistaken, it was candle light. Pan must have not bought lamps yet, or maybe she was still waiting for the generator. She didn't understand way, but she felt anxious.

As the candle lights grew brighter, Marron finally understood all the secrecy. Her jaw dropped, but she quickly closed it as it probably was inappropriate for such a moment. _Wow_. Suddenly, everything she had been upset about, even her wet jeans sticking her, didn't even matter. Did she want to go home so soon? Not really.

Goten led her to the middle of a rose petal bed on top of Pan's white fur rug. Marron speechlessly looked around the room, and saw the candles surrounding them along with the flowers that hung above. She saw pictures of them dangling near her eyes and spread across the floor. Most importantly, she saw the love her life on one knee, holding open a box of a familiar ring.

She gulped. It was her mother's ring. Was she breathing? It didn't feel like she was. Her eyes grew bigger.

Goten laughed at the astonished look in her face. He was trying to _not_ be teary during this moment, but needless to say, he couldn't help himself. He might have been a little too thankful of the lack of direct light because otherwise, she would have seen what a mess he was. His hand shook as he reached for her left, but as soon as she was in his grasp, he felt relaxed again. Just like that.

"This is probably ten years overdue," he started and Marron wiped his face with her free hand. "I mean it. I should've married you a long time ago but gosh, you still make me nervous. Like really nervous. Is it hot in here or am I just sweating?" he coughed as a sweatdrop fell from his temple.

She let out a melodic laugh, tasting the salt in her own tears. She told him, "You're doing just fine. I—you know what, Goten? I actually don't have anything to say for the first time."

"Thanks, just say yes by the end of this, okay? I mean, if you want. I'll respect whatever choice you make," he rambled and she nodded. Usually, it would be the other way around with him understanding her word vomits.

Vomit. Oh, no. Was she going to puke during this? Why was her stomach doing cartwheels at a time like this!? Twenty-four years wasn't enough preparation? Of course, it wasn't... _oh, boy_. What is air?

Goten matched her serene smile. He added, "But I really hope you say yes because we've been through so much together and it still hasn't been enough. I want _more_ with you. More of everything. Good or bad, I'm ready to take on whatever as long as we're together. I don't need anybody else."

"Not even your favorite coffee guy?" Marron timidly asked, half as a joke and half in all seriousness. The man was adamant about his coffee and who made it.

"I'd drink crappy instant coffee every morning for the rest of my life if it meant I get another day with you. I mean it, I don't need anybody else. It's always been you and me. Dakota's just going to have to wait for another regular."

She quietly gasped, "You'd give up _Dakota_ for me?"

"I'd give up anything to make you happy, Marron. You deserve it. If you asked me if I wanted to do the last twenty-something years all over again, I would. Every single time. I wouldn't change a thing about anything either. I made you a promise when we were eleven, and I intend to keep it," he said firmly.

Marron took a pause to remember that very day they had gone fishing. It wasn't an unusual hobby of theirs, but it was different from the other times they had gone. The day was brighter and the grass scent was more crisp. Something in the wind had changed, but something in them too.

Maybe it was puberty or maybe they just knew that instantly, but it was the day they decided to be something other than friends. Something more, and something different for the both of them.

She had stayed on the shore with her dainty pole as Goten jumped in to catch the biggest fish in the pond. It was May. This exact day decades ago. They were laughing because he placed his fish down beside hers, which wasn't even comparable in size. The smaller fish was barely bigger than her palm, and his could've fed an entire village.

"Wow! I could get used to you catching dinner for the rest of our lives," the younger her had giggled.

The freckled eleven year old kid with the missing front tooth just blushed. He asked her, "The rest of our _lives_? You really want to spend the rest of your life with _me_? You're crazy!"

" _You're_ making it sound crazy. I've already spent my entire life with you, silly. Why would I need to change that? I already seen you in diapers. When you get old, I'll see you in diapers again!"

"Ew, you're going to change my old diapers?! _Gross_!"

"So? You're going to change mine _and_ Trunks's! So who has the bad job here? Not me."

"You want to kiss me too, huh? I bet," he said while waving the fish around. If she could travel back through time, she would've laughed her head off.

"Yeah, so what if I do? Kissing is natural! I bet you want to kiss me too," she told him before stealing her first kiss from him. "There! Now you've kissed me."

"I wasn't r-ready!" he stuttered as his eyes widen. He also had dropped his fish to cover his mouth.

She didn't care at the time. The eleven year old her had shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "Now we both know what it's like so if we ever want to—"

Then before she could say _again_ , he had kissed her out of revenge. Her eyes had went wide too, but she didn't cover her mouth. As he was about to say, " _Ha_!" to her face, their parents had witnessed the whole thing. Her mom's usually stoic face was as reddest she had ever seen while Chichi's mouth was gaping wide. She could've sworn her dad and Goku had high-fived each other before their moms started yelling.

It was later that night after getting lectured and having fish for dinner, they had sat outside and looked at the stars as they normally did. He asked her again if she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, and that time, she answered with a simple yes.

"Really?" he had asked again to make sure.

"Really, Goten. I want you in my life forever," she told him.

"Okay then. I'm in your life forever. I promise," and just right after that, he stole another kiss.

Out of spite, she didn't kiss him again until they were thirteen. Now they were thirty-five and he was proposing. How did time go by so fast. Wow.

Goten's voice was now clear to her, and she felt calm this time. Oh, she wished he'd just ask her already. She knew what her answer was. She had always known what it was.

"You see, I told you that I was going to be in your life forever and I meant that. I know it hasn't always been easy for us; some seasons better than others..."

Now that stupid summer was in her head. Oh, god. How naive was she back then? She went to go live in a completely different country because she was scared of that exact thing she wanted. She was scared that they had been together for so long that they didn't know anything else. He was in the middle of picking careers and she felt so guilty because she had taken his youth.

When she was studying to be a teacher, he was working three jobs so they could afford rent. Flipping burgers, being a living mannequin, dusting off sidewalks—the guy did _anything_ for her and the moment he was in need of advice and support, she left. She had taken for granted of his kindness, and when he was in need of guidance the most, she picked a fight with him for something she couldn't even remember. They were fighting a lot during that time, and when she had said she was going to leave, he told her to go on ahead. She had _pushed_ him that much.

"It was hard, Mare. Fighting with you was something I just wasn't used to," his voice cut through her thoughts, and she had found ease at his soft smile. _God_ , he was lovely. "But the thing is, we fought back harder to get back to each other. I always had hope. I always found myself still wanting to try, even when everyone was telling me to give it up—we were over, and I had to accept that... _but I didn't_. I couldn't. It wasn't that I wanted to be comfortable with you, or that I was settling down because I made a promise to you when we were children, or that I even fell in love with you while you kicked Vegeta's ass—"

"Can you imagine me kicking the Prince's ass?" she laughed. A grin finally broke out on his lips. Their parents had great love stories, but they liked theirs the best.

"Say that any louder and he could hear you," Goten joked briefly. Their tears had both dried now and something pleasant took over. "But point is, I couldn't give up on you because we weren't moments or a promise. I didn't fall in love with you once, I've fallen in love with you over and over again, ever since we met. Even when you were screaming and kicking me and I _had_ to be mad at you, I just fell in love with that part of you too."

His eyes now caught hers and there was a look she didn't recognize. A look that was fearful, hopeful, and begging all at the same time. "See, you and I are _not_ moments. We're not even a series of moments. We're forever, a constant even in the most unpredictable times. I love you, Marron, and if you'll have me, I want to prove that to you every day even more so than I do now. Will you marry me?"

There was a small pause in the room, and everyone felt it.

Bra had been watching from the door; a strange twist that took over her stomach instead the warmth of happiness she intended for her friends.

Pan had her hand on Trunks's mouth, listening in on the proposal, and smiling for her uncle. Trunks had been blushing as Pan pressed her body against his to keep him from asking another question of what was happening; he was trying to keep his thoughts out of the way their legs intertwined in the small room.

Marron had been staring at Goten, and Goten was patiently waiting for her reply.

She thought about her answer and smiled, "Did you even have to ask?!" His future wife then tackled him down and kissed him again and again. Between kisses, she told him _of course_ and _I love you_. He tried to slip the ring on her finger as she smothered him in an embrace.

Once he did, Goten held her tightly. Then once she began nibbling on his neck, he remembered that they weren't alone. The lights came back on and Bra walked in, congratulating the two. Pan and Trunks stumbled out the closet and attacked their friends with hugs.

"THE CANDLES!" Goten yelled as everyone piled on top of him.

"OH!" Pan said, and with the wave of her hand, the flames disappeared.

* * *

Trunks woke up at the sound of his sister leaving. It couldn't have been earlier than four in the morning, and his pounding head began to remember that— _instead of getting food like sensible people_ —the five friends decided to buy several bottles of random alcohol to play random drinking games that had no rules. Even for his Saiyan metabolism, he still felt intoxicated. The five of them had yelled, laughed, toured Pan's house, and then all crashed onto the living room floor, sharing two blankets between the five of them.

Bra hoped he didn't look at her. Her intention was to go upstairs and use Pan's trick window to escape effortlessly. She had to leave, for the feelings she once buried began to resurface again.

Trunks couldn't see far. He guessed it was time to replace his fake glasses with real lenses. He looked beside him, and Pan was curled into a ball, using his hand as a pillow. On his other side, Marron and Goten were sprawled out, mouths open, and cuddled. Trunks rubbed his eyes, miscounting his four for six. He guessed he shouldn't trust his counting instincts right now, and with that, he went back to sleep. One arm was taken out under and thrown across Pan as the other held Goten's foot from coming any closer to his mouth.

The blue-haired girl sighed in relief, flying her way to Pan's room. She didn't even bother getting her outfit from the dryer. Leveling up her ki just slightly was enough to burn out the alcohol in her bloodstream. She wasn't that much of a drinker anyway. Bra sighed, looking back. Even though she couldn't physically see him, she still couldn't bear being in the same place as him. Not right now.

Bra jumped out of the building and flew home. The sky was changing colors and she tried to hold back her tears. It wasn't her fault that she was crying; the wind irritated her eyes!

She paused to wipe her face, floating mid-air. She could see the sun, and she did not understand why like it, her feelings were coming back up for him. It was all a mistake, a summer that both had admitted to not talk about. It was _her_ idea to get Eighteen's ring to propose with, even her idea for them to get married in the first place.

Yet, why was it so hard for her to accept it? Was she a terrible friend for wishing Marron had said _no_? She had never been in love with Goten, not even the slightest—but her mind kept thinking about _that_ summer, when it was just them two. Marron was gone, Pan was on some weird enlightenment trip without a phone, and Trunks spent his days between business meetings and the bar. It just _happened_.

Goten was looking for Trunks as she was meditating, trying to telepathically talk to Pan. Neither of their goals were accomplished that June day, and they both slumped on the couch to watch television. He just got dumped. She just turned eighteen. It was _summer_. Neither of them were looking for anything serious. When a commercial came on, they kissed. By the time the credits rolled through, Bra was on top of him as he watched her climax. It was casual, no strings attached.

But they ended up meeting almost every day to hang out, sex or not. Bra needed someone to vent to while Goten needed to snap out of his sad bubble of missing Marron. He listened to her as she pepped him up again. She helped him give Marron space as he helped her do the same for Pan.

When that failed, he helped her look for her best friend, and she bought the plane ticket for him to go see Marron. He needed to make up with the one he loved, and she needed to make a better effort. (She knew he could fly there by himself, but it was the gesture that counted.) She was the first one he called when things worked out, and he was the first one she told about Pan coming back home.

They were _friends_. How did she feel like this about him? About anybody?

Bra bit her lip as she headed to the CC compound. When she landed, she didn't even bother hiding her ki or trying to sense who was walking around. She was just exhausted—physically, emotionally, _psychologically_. She had tried to reason with herself that it was still morning and that's why she felt so... numb, but it wasn't convincing enough.

The blue-haired beauty walked inside the gates, punched in the security code, and found her way to the couch. Last week's memory of planning the proposal crossed her mind as she sat down. _It took place right here_ , she thought. _Everything happened on_ this _couch_.

Her mind flashed every memory between her and Goten on the red plush seat. When they watched TV, the first time they had sex, _the first time they kissed..._ There were nights where they would just sit and talk. She would tell him about her new invention idea while he had decided that he would've like to be a veterinarian. She cried to him on this couch, and he did the exact same thing. They built each other up. They helped each other grow back up. They planned _his proposal_ here.

Why didn't she say anything?

She didn't even notice she was crying, nonetheless the figure behind her. Bra pulled her head back, staring at the ceiling. The person in the shadows came and sat on the arm of the couch, holding an open can of soda while adjusting his pajama shorts. He looked at her once, and she already felt his disappointment. She hated when her father saw her weak.

"Thought you were the boy," he huffed a faint laugh. She managed a small smile before biting her jaw down to stop herself from tearing up. Vegeta now sat beside her and she cried onto his lap. She felt like she was a little girl again, crying over the smallest thing—not that she had even done such a thing at that age anyway.

Vegeta shifted uncomfortably while trying his best to remain still. He rarely saw his daughter burst into tears. At the moment, truthfully, he felt _helpless_. Though she had a physical resemblance to her mother, she was _his_ without a doubt. She had his short temper, the same prideful smirk, and same work ethic. She was resilient, headstrong, and downright haughty if she wanted to be. He knew she would've been an undeniable queen in his old world—but that was neither here, nor there. Right now, she was crying and he had to do his best.

Vegeta rubbed her head as she wept, and when she grew tired, he carried her to her room and put her to rest. He pressed the button his wife showed him for curtains, and blocked the morning sun from bothering her. He then walked out of her room and closed the door carefully.

Seeing him come out of his daughter's bedroom, Bulma halted and raised an eyebrow of suspicion. "Drunk?" she asked simply. He caught her eye and shook his head.

"She..." he hesitated before sighing, "There were tears and then she fell asleep so I tucked her in her bed."

Bulma furrowed her eyebrows.

"What do you _mean_ there were tears and she fell asleep? You knocked her out, Vegeta?!" she began to scold him, and his eyes widen. _He_ , not only as the Prince of All Saiyans but also as the better father between him and Kakarot, would _never_ do such a damn thing. (Not to Bra, anyway.)

"Keep your voice down!" he yelled in a whisper, holding a finger to shush her. He was blushing, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. "My _child_ is trying to sleep," Vegeta huffed, heading back to their bedroom. When he couldn't walk fast enough, he chose to quickly fly away without another word.

Bulma stood there, feeling stumped and unable to argue back. He had said a nice thing, but as usual, in his usual angry, vein-throbbing way. She let out a sigh, deciding to drop it. She headed to her lab instead.

* * *

Pan woke up with Trunks's arm over her body and a stream of giggles and whispered ' _fuck_ 's hovering above them. Her slight anger alone evaporated any remnant alcohol in her system. She sat up with furrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw, a face Goten knew all well from his own mother. He hid the camera behind his back and put on a friendly smile.

"Sorry about that, Pan... my, um, _beautiful_ and, uh, strong but _forgiving_ niece," her uncle said, feeling the raise in her ki. Suddenly, Pan stopped, remembering her promise to herself during her gap year. Goten gulped at her calmness. There was always calmness before a storm.

Her lips, however, here cracking into a smile, which was both a relief and absolutely terrifying.

"When you get those developed, send me a copy so I could have pictures to decorate my house with," she said kindly before letting out a more gentler laugh. "Everything's so empty here. It would be nice to have pictures to remember the night! Congrats again, by the way."

Goten flashed a look at Marron who, instead of paying attention, had been rubbing her head from the migraine coming on. The blonde felt dehydrated, but the only thing available to at Pan's was what caused them to have an impromptu sleepover in the first place. Maybe the lobby had some refreshments, if she remembered correctly.

"Need an aspirin?" Goten asked, and Marron nodded wordlessly.

Pan then looked around, missing a head of blue hair.

"Where's Bra?" she asked, and the newly engaged couple shrugged. Pan sighed. This was not the first time Bra had been skipping out early in their hangouts with Goten, Trunks, and Marron—but she guessed her brilliant best friend was creating something in her lab at home. She tended to drop everything when a new idea struck her, and Pan learned to respect that.

Trunks woke up to the sound her voice, yawning as he was now not nearly as wasted as he was last night. His arm did not move from her waist as he found himself actually comfortable on the floor. "Call my secretary and tell her to hold all my meetings," he mumbled, snuggling his face in her back. Pan blushed at their closeness. Even with her new-found maturity, he still found a way to get under her skin.

"Trunks?" she said.

"Yeah, yeah," he grunted, only to dig his face deeper to hide from the sun. His breath tickling the small of her back set her off. She then made a fist and dropped it on his gut. He screamed, "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

Goten chuckled, "You were getting too close for comfort there, buddy."

Trunks scowled at Pan, and she did not hold back at making the same expression. Despite the fact that Pan _did_ come back with more patience, and the fact that age _did_ teach Trunks how to control his inherited temper, something about the morning air always brought out the timeless irritation the two could only express with another grumpy person. Marron only coughed to break the tension.

"Uh, we're gonna go now... but you two, _um_ , be at Chichi's later on for the, _uh_ , party. Gifts are optional," Marron said as her two friends still had frowns and furrowed brows. "Yeah... get something to eat before you get there." The blonde then grabbed Goten's hand and left the penthouse almost abruptly.

Then not a second later, both hybrid's heard their stomach grumble. The tense expressions on their faces disappeared in an instant, and they both laughed.

"Guess I can't be mad at you until I have the energy?" He scratched his head and stretched his arms. "Hey, the place across the street has the best pasta," Trunks said, knowing Pan's food weakness.

"Don't you have work?" she asked him plainly. He shrugged.

"What's the point of being president if you can't decide your own work schedule?" he said and a slight grin came upon her face. Trunks hardly skipped work. A long list of plans began to scroll through her mind. Pan leaned in closer to him and a slight pink came across his cheeks.

"If that's the case... _Trunks_?" she said softly, leaning in even closer and not abandoning her eyes on his.

"Y-yes?" he stammered, trying to hold himself up. Pan smiled sweetly before she decked him in the jaw.

"THAT'S FOR NOT KNOWING WHAT PERSONAL SPACE IS!" she scolded as he slid across the living room. He barely caught himself before he crashed into the windows. He rubbed his mouth before yelling back.

"WHAT THE HELL WOMAN!" he barked. He almost reminded her of Vegeta when he yelled. "I'M SUPPOSED TO EAT WITH THIS THING!"

"Well, if you can talk, then you certainly can chew," she huffed, grabbing her blankets and flying up to her room. Trunks met her on the stairs and pinned her wrists down. She could've easily threw him off, but Pan only stared at him with a stoic face. His blood from his lips dripped onto her cheek.

"Where do you think you're going?" he smirked, setting his knees on her thighs. She merely laughed.

She then grabbed _his_ wrists. With her free hands, she flipped him above her on top of the steps. She pushed against the ground with her freed legs to flip onto him. This time she was on top, and he wasn't bothering to fight back. Pan settled on his torso, caring less if she would be heavy for him or not. He was a Saiyan, and therefore, he could handle it.

"Are you done yet, or can I change in peace while you get your dress shirt from the dryer? I would like to eat before training," she said, crossing her arms. Trunks was trying to look anywhere else but her. The earlier realization he had now felt like bad karma.

"Well, I can't get dressed if you're on top of me!" he piqued with an uneven voice, still not looking at her.

Pan rolled her eyes before rolling off. As much as she wanted to be upset however, she simply couldn't. There was a familiarity with the way they fought. It was never serious. A couple punches here, a few casual insults there. If anything, it made her grand empty space feel... _homely_. She looked around at the empty walls and sighed. It was just the _beginning_ of making memories here.

Trunks sat up on his elbows and watched her think. They were tousled in random sheets, the sun was coming through the windows, and they were laying around in sweatpants. If he didn't know any better, walking into this place and catching them would feel like intruding newlyweds moving into their first home together. Though, he didn't think that far ahead.

"I'm going to take pictures of everyone and just frame them all over this place," she grinned to herself. She had been doing that a lot this morning.

"Yeah, a gigantic poster of Piccolo would fit right, just, about there," he pointed out, making two L's with his hands. She covered her mouth to laugh quietly.

"Your mom would hire a whole camera crew and makeup team just so I can get one candid picture!"

They both laughed at the thought of Bulma scheduling a photoshoot for that exact reason. Surprisingly, despite the morning rush, they weren't that quick to get dressed. They sort of just stayed at their spot to gaze upon the grand penthouse. It wasn't filled completely, but it was staring onto a blank canvas full of possibilities.

Trunks looked more thoughtful that she did, and she caught a glimpse of him relaxing beside her. Pan felt a small swirl in her stomach, both excited and calm. Before, she would've liked nothing more than to decorate a whole house with Trunks. Picking out their color scheme, testing out couches and mattresses, figuring out their grocery list, and being happily domestic with her childhood crush— _now_ , she just simply knew better.

She wouldn't cry over somebody who wasn't hers, and she wouldn't dwell in her feelings for somebody who didn't reciprocate them. Before she left, he had made that apparent enough.

Granted, they were drunk, she was leaving, and that night was filled with a storm of emotions—but nevertheless, she remembered it all clearly.

Bra had thrown herself a Graduation-Slash-Welcome-Back-Slash-Farewell-Pan sleepover with her and Marron. Vegeta and Bulma even left for a hotel for the night to leave them alone. Much like yesterday night, all they did was drink.

Goten and Trunks had stumbled into their private party in the middle of the night. All three girls singing and dancing on the kitchen counters while simultaneously eating dessert. She could only imagine the ridiculousness of Bra shooting a can of whipped cream in her mouth as Marron sang into her ice cream cone. They had smeared makeup, badly painted nails, and disastrous pajamas to match.

The boys blushed at the sight of them, untamed like warriors in the wild. When they were spotted, Marron invited them to join in the festivities. It wasn't long until they all sat at the bar of the Brief's kitchen, singing horribly at an overplayed pop song on the radio. The girls stripped the boys of their suits until they had only on slacks, and then wrote their names on their bare chests with lipstick. They laughed, they cried, and it wasn't long until they all crashed on the floor of Trunk's room because he had the projector screen.

The sound of the credits had woken her up and she saw Trunks going through his PDA for tomorrow's schedule. He was drinking coffee and his usually flat hair was pushed back from his face. The sharpness of his jaw and his very sculpted cheekbones only served as a _catalyst_ for her already want for him.

Goten had been knocked out across from Trunks with Bra and Marron clutching his sides. That's when Pan decided to sit up next to Trunks and lay on his shoulder. He tensed at the foreign feeling, but eased when he saw it was her. He went back to the spreadsheets on the small screen.

"I don't even know how you can read," she yawned. She nuzzled her head until she was more comfortable. "I feel like this whole room is spinning!" The both of them let out a soft chuckle.

Trunks rubbed his eyes, seeing the time glance back up at him from the small screen. It was three in the morning, and everyone had fallen asleep around midnight. "You're right," he said. "But I have a long day ahead of me... but so do you if I recall," he looked down at her and she settled her chin on his shoulder, looking up at him. "So, what? You're gonna say bye to your parents and fly on out of here?"

"That was pretty much the plan," her laughed tickled his arm. "You're gonna miss me or what?"

"Considering that my dad is going to beat on me while you're gone? Hmm... maybe just a little," he joked. This time, she didn't laugh. She just simply stared at his eyes before she trailed down to his lips.

"Well, I might miss you a little too," she said, and the next second, they kissed. The sensation went through her tongue to the bottom of her throat to the pits of her stomach until the nerves of her toes were tingling. It was the kiss she dreamt of for years, but like its moment, it stopped abruptly.

Then, he laughed.

"Guess we're still a bit drunk, aren't we?" he dismissed her entirely. The younger her was doing her best to not overreact as he went back to his phone, not even flinching as she got up and left the room. That kind of rejection was enough for her to give up chasing him in an instant. There was nothing she wanted more than to never feel that way about herself ever again.

So that morning, she had flew back home before any of her friends got up. She had woken up her parents with the sounds of pans clashing together as she hurriedly washed them, leaving a goodbye note next to the breakfast she cooked. She had set off to Tien's, not feeling bad about herself ever again. No one heard from her for a year, and she was changed.

And she didn't stop growing as a person since then—even after two years of her return, give or take a few months. She was a different person now, and she would be a different person tomorrow. Trunks, on the other hand, was still checking his outdated PDA for his schedules and proposals and well, just being Trunks. She had decided that she was better off being his friend.

The Brief heir then caught her staring at him. What is she thinking while looking at him like that?

"Hey, Trunks?" she finally spoke.

"Yeah?"

"Skip work today."

* * *

 _End._


	3. Part I - Chapter 3

**A/N** : This chapter was such a pain in the TUCKUS. It deleted not once! Not twiiiice! But SIX times!

But I'm so happy it's here! I hope you guys don't mind the frequent updates because wow, it's barely been a week and I have three chapters up when my original plan was to spread them out weekly—but since it is a slow start, who cares? Let's get this story going!

 **Disclaimer** : But again, I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything related to the franchise. (Also before I get any comments, yes I do know Grandpa Gohan's house is part of the Son's house! But for this story, Chichi and Goku live near Ox King instead of Mount Paozu.)

\- _**CHAPTER 3**_ -

Goten and Marron's engagement party moved from Chichi's humble abode to the Briefs' arborium as soon as the two older women got on the phone with each other, excitedly yelling. It was the first wedding since their beloved Gohan's nearly two and a half decades ago, and they were beginning to think none of the next generation cared that they were aging. Bulma invited even Seventeen to make appearance for his niece's happy announcement, and Chichi settled that _this_ wedding would not be missed by anybody—training or not!

Though, despite the fact that everyone dropped what they were doing to head to the Briefs' compound, not all attendees were as enthusiastic to be at the party. Bra had only slept for an hour before the older version of her barged in her room, demanding she get dressed! Her eyes weren't even open when Bulma yanked out of bed and pushed her inside the bathroom.

So to the best of her ability, Bra took a quick shower, threw on her easiest and stylish outfit (sundresses never went out of season!), and made way to her family's own personal forest. She rounded the animals to their personal habitats, gave them two-day's worth of food, and then locked them inside the artificial homes her grandfather had spent practically his whole life making sure every detail was unique to the species of animal. She then hung the decorations her mother left for the robots who were busy setting up the tables, and made sure everything was up to par with her mother's definition of _magical._

It was only when she hung up the banner that she realized who the guests of honor were. There was a strange sensation taking over her lips as she made sure the roll of fabric was perfect. She was frowning, unsure of her mixed feelings. It had only been a _day_ since the proposal. Yet, she wanted to believe that they eloped, left her life, and were never heard from again. At least, until she sorted out her feelings and was possibly getting married _herself_.

When the clock struck noon, guests arrived little by little. The blue-haired beauty graciously made her greetings, offering to take people's coats and handing them glasses of whatever wine her mom left out. She dealt with the perverted men who were surprised at her growing body, crushing their fingers as she shook their hands with a smile to remind them she could easily destroy another flimsy muscle without much of an effort. She hugged the crying women (and Krillin) who were happy to be attending a wedding instead of dealing with another world ending, patting their backs as they smeared their lipstick on her exposed shoulders. She even served plates to guests who made her grab twenty plates at once without much complaint. Bra was being an honorable host, welcoming everyone to her home and making sure they were comfortable.

However, when _they_ made their entrance, together holding hands, Bra only found herself standing still. Time stopped as everyone turned their heads and the happy couple flashed their bright smiles. A sudden drop in her stomach, and she lost the feeling of her legs as she was suspended in air.

Bulma then unknowingly gave Bra an excuse to leave as she saw that a few guests had yet to make an appearance. The older woman sighed as she poured a beverage next to her daughter, "Bra, honey, can you go get your father, Pan and Trunks from the GR? Make sure they're bandaged and not wearing armor because this is supposed to be a party!"

"Yeah sure, mom," she said handing Bulma the plates, not paying attention to the older one struggling. She pretended she didn't even notice the two as she brushed against Goten's shoulder. Bra floated back inside her house and made way to the backyard where the three were training. She heard screams and yells, but she thought none of it. She simply knocked, and when that wasn't enough, she opened the door and the three Saiyans flew to the ceiling.

"BRA!" Trunks yelled, rubbing his golden head. He was the first one to hit the ground as Vegeta and Pan simply levitated down. Pan had convinced him to train with her and his father after telling him to skip work. The older Briefs child huffed, "You know better than to open the door when we're training! The gravity machine automatically goes to 0 when it's exposed to natural air!"

The younger Brief folded her arms, much like her father's famous stance. She even scowled at her brother. "So?" she snarled.

"So!? We were training at 300G! You made fly us into the ceiling!" her brother scolded, but she was indifferent. She looked at the three fighters and saw the badly beaten Trunks, her father's spandex suit torn, and even Pan had a few scratches on her.

"Oh! It's fine, boy. A warrior has to be ready for any circumstance," Vegeta said, touching his feet to the ground. As damaged as his clothing had been, her father's ki was still relatively high. He didn't suffer as much damage as her brother. Pan joined them, rubbing her back.

"Who knew Bra could take me out faster than you two!" she laughed, scratching the back of her head and smiling the famous Son grin. She turned to Trunks, "You've been slacking on your training! I didn't think you were serious about 300 making you slow. I felt light like a feather!" Pan helped him up, and he only grimaced.

"She's right, boy. We weren't even fighting to our full capacity and you were already falling behind," he looked at his son before turning to his student. "Girl, give him the bands of your wrists so he gets used to the weight," Vegeta directed. Pan followed until her lavender hybrid friend spoke up.

"Her weights aren't heavy!" Trunks argued, squealing as Pan threw her breast plate's weight on his shoulder.

"Then you should wear that instead, you monkey!" the girl with dark hair huffed, folding her arms with her nose in the air.

Bra didn't care if they were ignoring her. The longer they were here, the better. However, her father's voice cut between her thoughts. "Bra, I suspect your mother sent you here for whatever festivities she let people use our home for this time," he grunted.

"Yeah, uh, it's Goten and Marron's engagement party," she mumbled. They barely made out what she said. Bra coughed and added volume to her voice, " _But_ we're taking pictures and Mom doesn't want you guys to look like... well, _this_ ," she waved a hand at their battle-torn looks. Then she smiled at the task being made ready for her. "She told me to make sure you shower, patch up, and help you pick out your outfits!"

All three of them groaned.

"Your father can dress himself, Bra," Vegeta said with a flush of crimson took his cheeks. He flew away with his eyes closed. A single look would have him in sixteen different shirts he didn't even know he possessed, and he had been hungry for a snack after _that_ warm-up.

Trunks then took the lead and grabbed Pan. "Listen, sis, Pan and I could help each other out with the bandages and clothes. Why don't you go enjoy the party? We'll be out in half an hour."

The Saiyan Princess stood in front of him. "I'm helping," she said firmly.

"No, we're fine!" Trunks said as friendly as he possibly could. Truthfully, she was annoying him a bit. He harden his grip on Pan's arm and walked out of the GR.

Bra, in layman's terms, was fed up. She flew over and grabbed her best friend's other arm, pulling it in her direction. "SHE'S MINE! GO DRESS YOURSELF!" she yelled at her brother.

"PAN DOESN'T NEED YOU TO PUT HER IN CLOTHES SHE HATES!" he snapped back, engaging in the tug of war.

"AND WHAT?! YOU'RE GOING TO LET HER WEAR YOUR CLOTHES? THREE WORDS, BIG BROTHER: OUT! OF! STYLE!"

The argument between the Briefs took course for another twenty minutes. Pan sighed, feeling like a rope between two dogs. She then pressed her hand against both of their chests and pushed them out of the way. The two siblings looked up at the red Pan who was clutching her fists, looking like she was ready to burst.

"I CAN DRESS MYSELF!" the youngest Son snapped. Her hair was now glowing and she felt her heart racing incredibly fast. She felt the wind graze the back of her neck and she looked up to see her hair was standing up. Pan blushed, powering down and awkwardly giggling. "Uh, oops! I mean, why do we have to fight about it?"

Trunks still looked at her in horror as Bra's face calmed before giving Pan a stern look. "Panna! We said **NO** Super Saiyan when I touch you!" The blue-haired girl folded her arms.

"I'll, uh, let you do whatever you want with me?" she said in a half-frightened and half-shy voice. Though technically Bra was younger, their friendship was reminiscent of her mother and Pan's grandfather. Any Son knew better than to get a Briefs woman angry.

Bra held up her head in satisfaction. "I want to... _curl your hair_ ," she paused before she declared, turning her head to smirk. Pan only rolled her eyes. She had inherited her father's wild and untamed hair, which Bra took as a challenge any time she could. She had always meant to brush it more often, but she usually chopped off her locks when it irritated her. Other than that, she would just wake up and go about her day. When she was younger, her mother took her to the salon to get her hair treated, but the chemicals never reacted the way they were supposed to. Plus, it had been some time since she even bothered to mess with it anyway. (Vegeta even told her that she looked like somebody named Raditz the other week—and by his tone, it was meant to be insulting.)

"But Bra! That's going to take _hours_. I'm hungry now!" Pan sighed in disappointment as she stretched her arms. Bra was always stronger than her, being the one with the given talent. It only took the Saiyan Princess a single _week_ to catch up with everyone else at any given time. If she didn't love science as much as Bulma, then Pan always speculated that Bra would've been the ultimate fighter.

Growing up, the two girls always remarked how they were like each other's father and grandfather.

Like Goku, Bra was just a natural. She was born with quick instincts, and the ability to figure out anybody's weakness. Even though she didn't have the heart to fight, Bra was easily the toughest opponent Pan always had. She was gracious in her movements, and without a doubt, beyond intelligent than any other fighter she'd known. She could always figure out the older girl's next move before she even thought it!

Pan, on the other hand, was like Vegeta. They were calculated in their fighting skills, a bit stiff at times, and were always working hard to be the best even though that only got them so far. They would practically push themselves to near death to be beyond their limits, ignoring every thought in their head to quit. And like him, Pan always had something to prove even though no one was questioning her in the first place.

Pan may have been prodigy for being only _five_ the first time she had a Saiyan transformation after so much training, but it was only _a single push_ that forced the three-and-a-half-year-old Bra into super, furious that she had been touched. She recalled the little cerulean-headed girl calling her a boy because little Pan had cut her hair short for the world tournament. Then before anyone could even flinch, the two were up in their air, glowing and screaming at each other. They had fought until the both of them landed in the pond, rubbing their heads and laughing because they knocked each other's front tooth out. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but all the guests of Bulma's birthday party filled their faces with horror. Both their parents were only speechless until Piccolo picked the two toddlers up and made them promise to never fight at a party again. Bra had only agreed if Pan never went super when they argued, and the dark-haired little girl promised to do the same. That promise lasted for nearly eighteen years until today.

Bra only glared at Pan before the older girl gave into her whims. They didn't even notice Trunks had flew into the compound as they had their small moment. Bra only smiled as she dragged Pan inside her room to her shower.

* * *

- _TRUNKS'S BATHROOM_ -

Trunks reached for a towel, groaning at his sore muscles. He had showered for so long that his hands had began to prune and the heat was drying his skin. He needed the hot water to massage his chest—but truly, at what cost? He was now late for the party. Not that he enjoyed parties, but his time to slip in without being noticed was almost up as well as his mother's patience.

He looked at himself in the mirror. He would have to wear a long-sleeve to cover his bruises and cuts, and figure out what to tell Ms. Olive when he went back to the office— _but_ _damn, did he look good_.

Trunks's slight ego was impressed to have kept up with Pan and Vegeta today. He may have had the crap beaten out of him but when he recovered, he would only be stronger. He didn't realize how much training he had missed while he worked—but then again, those two were always working themselves to the bone when training. To keep up with them, even if not to their fullest extent, only jolted something inside of his blood. He loved and was proud of his work at Capsule Corp., but there would always be a part of him that would thirst for battle.

Trunks went through his drawers and laid out his outfit: a tight, black turtle neck with three-quarter sleeves (that resembled his mom's design for Saiyaman's outfit but looked much better on him); khaki slacks that were crease-free and fit him generously; a black belt and a matching black watch; and clean, black leather dress shoes. His clothes were definitely _not_ "out of style."

He then looked at the full-length mirror hanging from his closet. He thought to bandage himself up before he got dressed. His mother would not let him hear the end of it if he looked roughed up in any pictures. Trunks threw on the black sport shorts close to him and made his way to the compound's infirmary.

Pan blushed as she sat on the high stool with several rollers in her head. She wore just her boyshorts and a t-shirt she expected to cover her torso but learned it was one of Bra's overly-cropped tops that barely covered her bust. She had decided to let the nurse robots stitch her scar, but they were too busy with humans in the infirmary. Bra then left her, and went to go get Dende. Apparently, there was a loose metal board that that stabbed her in the GR, but she didn't even notice until Bra yanked her out of the shower and screamed. She saw Trunks at the door, but just pretended that she didn't notice him.

Trunks tried to look anywhere else besides the distressed hem of her shirt. He knew of the small scripture tattooed on her upper rib-cage because of a picture Bra had showed him years ago. For her eighteenth birthday, Pan had secretly got ' _limitless_ ' inked onto her skin. It couldn't have been bigger than the size of his index finger, and was often hidden under the band of her sport bras and shirts. However, she wasn't wearing a bra. He knew that _not only_ because of the tattoo, but because a slither of her chest was spilling out of the bottom of the shirt. Again, he tried to look anywhere else.

Pan decided to break the silence. Considering that she was one of the reasons he had come inside the room in the first place, she might as well be courteous.

"Did you need anything?" _What a ridiculous question_ , she thought to herself. There was a bruise on his collarbone because _she_ slapped him.

Trunks scratched his head. "Um, just need to cover up a few scars before my mom sees me," he explained.

Neither of them were looking at each other directly, only glancing and breaking contact every few seconds. She didn't want to gawk at his bare body as a pair of thin shorts hung at the edge of his hips. It was enough that his fuzzy violet happy trail had been peeking out, and her mind was wondering what lilac pubes looked like. He, on the other hand, already had been having trouble with her top half—so much so, that he didn't even notice how sculpted her legs were, and the way her thighs made her waist seem tighter. She had wide hips from squatting so much in the artificial gravity, and that somehow made her shorts disappear into her skin. The both blushed, realizing they were checking each other out.

They both tried to look at the direction opposite each other, trying to get the other out of their peripherals. It's not like they hadn't seen each other like this before, considering all the pool parties the Briefs threw and how much fish the Sons ate. They practically grew up with each other, but for some reason, the two couldn't help but turn pink.

Pan took a deep breath, disliking the fact that he still made her nervous. She practically swam naked and became one with nature when she lived at her Great-Grandpa Gohan's house! She didn't give an ounce of care then when any of the random villagers who lived on the mountain too stumbled upon her, and she shouldn't care now! He was only _one person_ , and she was wearing clothes. Why did she need to feel shy?

"The robots are taking care of the people in the medical wing. There was a weird accident in the lab. So your sister went to go get Dende, but he was still at the lookout and hadn't made it to the party yet," she said rather quickly, but said nonetheless. She finally looked at him. "Are you going to sit down or what?"

Trunks mumbled something and then made his way to the blue medical bed behind her. He pulled the roll of wax paper until it covered the leather mattress and sat down. It only took a laugh for the tension to break.

"Got a wedgie there, Panny?" he joked and she swiftly spun around to kick him on the cheek. She crossed her arms and huffed.

"So rude!" She had intended to hurt him, but he caught her leg before it caused any more damage. Pan blushed at the compromising position they were in now. Her leg was in the air as he gripped her ankle. He took a hold of her other thigh to hold his balance as his knee held her stool between her legs. She was looking down at him as he was eye-level with her chest. One false move and they would've fell on top of each other.

"To be fair," he looked up at her, " _you_ were about to kick me and I had to protect myself."

"To be fair, you didn't need to stare at my ass!" She snapped, wiggling her suspended leg from his grip.

"Well, _to be fair_ ," he stopped her foot from landing on his chest. He was starting to laugh even more now that he was the one dodging her hits. "PAN!" Trunks _giggled_ as his voice became softer. "Hey! To be fair, it _is_ a nice ass. You should be proud of it!"

Pan felt her mouth curving upwards when she still wanted to be angry with him. Between the compliment and the giggle, she could only roll her eyes as lick the bottom of her gums to stop herself from smiling. Trunks let go of her leg, allowing her to let her sit up straight. He still held his knee in the same spot between her thighs. He rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned back on the bed.

"You can't keep hurting me like this. The last person who did at least bought me a meal first," he smirked.

"Technically, I did buy you breakfast _and_ lunch." She recalled this morning when Trunks had hyped her up for hours about the restaurant across from her building. It was a small, family-orientated bistro with checkered table cloths and fake roses tucked inside empty wine bottles at every table. Truthfully, she knew she could've made a better sauce when her pasta bowl came, but he had been so excited that they stayed there for three whole hours. She considered it to be his favorite place since everyone on staff—from the owner, the cooks, and even the waitresses on different shifts—knew him not as Trunks Briefs, but as Two Large Margarita Pizzas With Three Spaghetti Bowls and a Pan of Lasagna. He was their favorite customer, and she offered to take care of the check as he ate happily.

"True. That's the most I ever ate on a date," he sighed casually, realizing his slip two seconds later. He then coughed before she could even _think_ question him. However, the sound of the word 'date' sparked her interest. He quickly began rambling to make his words feel casual again, "But yeah, um, you totally messed me up. I was in the shower until our water got cold and I didn't even think that happened!"

She laughed. "Serves you right for choosing work all the time." She wasn't even apologetic. Pan then hopped off the stool and stood in front of him. "But here, tell me where it hurts. I learned this trick when Korin used to smack me with his staff for not eating ' _like a lady_ ,'" she quoted with a chuckle, mocking the white cat's voice. Even being a quarter Saiyan, Pan's appetite was nearly as needy as all the guys. Bra was the only one with Saiyan blood who was smart and used science to create vitamins with calories so she wouldn't pig out at every meal like they did. However, none of them added the pill to their diet because it tasted like wet grass.

Trunks pointed to the bruise on his collarbone, and she moved closer to him. She stood between his legs and held the part of the mattress beside him to keep her balance. She then raised a hand over to the purple and red mark, and concentrated.

He felt a tingle on all the nerves of his body as her hand pressed against his chest. His heart was racing both steadily and rapidly as she stared at his skin. There was a warmth coming from his core, and he couldn't explain what was happening. It felt like his blood was rushing, but at the same time, his muscles relaxed. He was feeling a bit of adrenaline, but a hint of nervousness all at once. It was an interesting sensation and the slightest touch to any other part of him would've been sensitive to any touch, even dainty fingers that were pressed against him now.

Pan sighed in relief. It was the first time she used her ki so lightly on somebody else. She removed her hand and smiled proudly as his bruise was gone. Trunks looked down and saw his injury was no more. He was confused.

"What the heck?" he whispered to himself before looking at her. "What exactly just happened right now?" He moved his shoulders and it felt like nothing had ached him at all.

"Oh, it's just transferring energy. It's not like I have healing powers like Dende," she said simply. "Bruises, you see," her hand touched the bruise on his side, "they're just broken blood cells. As Saiyans, our bloodstream flow intensifies when we make our energy blasts or transform. It's nice, but our insides have become a little immune to it." His bruise was disappearing as she trailed her hand to his jaw. The sensation took over his body once again. "It's kind of a shame that our ancestors focused so much on destroying, but I guess it's not so bad considering we're can't get hurt from our own destructive attacks. We have so much power that things blow up with just the smallest fraction of the energy inside us."

Trunks followed her mouth and the sounds that came out of it. He wasn't really paying attention to the message, but there was a softness in her face that put him in a strange ease. He watched her eyes as they grazed over his healed, light brown skin. Pan cocked up the side of her lips in a half-smile and then she patted the spot on his jaw gently.

"See! Good as new," she laughed, but her hand didn't leave his face. She only trailed her finger around the ghost of the mark. "You just needed a little sparse of energy to get your blood flowing. Your new blood cells destroy the dead ones that make the mark and you're practically running good as new. All I did was speed up the healing process with my energy."

Her thumb settled where her finger once was before, and rubbed his jaw in soft, small strokes. His blue eyes trailed from her finger tips to her tangerine lips, feeling a need to press against them with his own. She paid him no mind though.

"It's a nice kind of cheat, like how we power up when we're drunk to sober up or dry off from the shower using our ki. It's not a big deal. You just have to control your energy enough so you don't accidentally blast yourself." She then abruptly went back to her stool, scooting away from him. He still felt her hands on his body and face.

" _Wow_ ," was all he could manage. He then looked down at his body. There were a few scratches and scars, but those would heal within the week. They weren't noticeable, except a few he could easily cover in band-aids.

Pan laughed at his whispered astonishment. "Yeah, your dad thinks I've turned invincible! I just learned how to heal faster," she sighed. "Though the hardest part is not concentrating my energy near my tattoo," she broke his concentration. He pretended to be confused at what she was talking about. However, she knew he knew about it. She was the one who told Bra to show it to him in the first place.

"What tattoo? When did you get a tattoo?" he tried to play it off. She was about to roll her eyes when she decided against it. She would simply _show_ him.

Pan turned her seat, lifted her right arm, and used her left to hold down the hem of her shirt (if she could call it that at this point.) "See, right here," she directed with her finger.

A rosy blush came on his cheeks, but he told himself to work through it. It was a tattoo, just a simple small tattoo. Nothing more, nothing less. Who cares if he thought it was kind of hot? Plenty of people got tattoos. A lot of unattractive people got tattoos. He tried to imagine Pan as Buu as she showed him. Pink, soft—fine, he pictured Pan as Piccolo. Green. Just a whole bunch of green.

"I got it when I was eighteen," she laughed. She admitted it had been more of flirtatious giggle though. A part of her liked making him feel uncomfortable; maybe it was the part of her that still liked childish pranks, or it was the part that wanted to get back at him after all these years. Who knew? He was blushing and she liked it.

Trunks gulped. "That's, uh," he coughed. "It looks good. Did it hurt?"

"I think the idea of the needle hurt more than the needle itself," she shivered. It was ironic getting a tattoo and having a small fear of needles, but here she was, ending up getting it redone. "The first time I transferred energy on this part of my body, I was at Korin's. Uub and I went at it for a while and he punched me right on my rib cage. My bones didn't crack, but I had a bruise that I decided to try my little trick on. Completely destroyed the ink and all you could see were little dots."

"Wait," he paused, looking at her face now. "You got it done again?!"

"Yeah, when I came back," she said, putting her hand back down and sighing. "Why do you ask? Did you want me to invite you to get one too?"

Trunks cocked a smirk. "I would look pretty badass with a tattoo, wouldn't I?" he said confidently, slightly flexing.

"Nope, not really," she spoke without a thought. His face dropped, but she didn't seem to care. Then finally, the door open with Bra and Dende.

"Sorry, guys. It took a while to get here because, well—" Earth's guardian shot a nervous look to the cerulean-haired girl.

Bra crossed her arms. "He was scared of my flying! Can you believe tha—" she paused. "Trunks?" The younger Briefs walked over to her brother, lifted his arms and checked out his body. She could've sworn he looked the worst of them all. "Did you eat a senzu bean or something?"

"Uh," he looked at Pan who was encouraging him to lie. "Well, not a full bean. Just like half of a half."

Bra them turned to check out Pan's body. The younger girl huffed, "And you couldn't have shared that quarter piece with Pan! She's still bleeding for Dende's sake."

The Namekian blushed. Trunks guessed he wasn't really paying attention to her shoulder. Bra then sighed in relief as she looked at Pan's hair.

"It stayed!" she jumped in excitement. There were two rivals that always haunted Bra: Pan herself, and Pan's Kami's forsaken hair! The former, she had made her peace with—but the latter was at war with her constantly, teasing her to be undone with every loose strand. This time thankfully, she won.

"Oh yeah, I guess I forgot about that too," Pan laughed. "Trunks and I were talking the whole time."

"Well, next time he's being _annoying_ ," she looked towards her brother, "just punch him in the face! I grant you permission."

"You can't just give somebody permission to sock me in the face!" the older sibling interjected, but the Saiyan Princess simply waved her hand like she had made a decree to the land.

"Well, at least now I won't feel bad about it!" Pan bowed her head to Bra. The two girls giggled.

"Good," she nodded. "Dende, can you fix her up now? I still have to get her into clothes and I don't want blood staining anything. Do you know how hard it is to explain to a dry cleaner that your alien father beat up your quarter-alien friend because they're training just in case the world ends again?" Everyone laughed. "Trunks could escort you to the arborium after," she smiled. With that, Pan's scar was gone and so was she with Bra.

Trunks only sighed. That girl was something else.

He then walked Dende to the party before flying back to his room to change. He forgot to ask if he could be healed too—but then again, maybe he didn't need it.

* * *

\- BRA'S ROOM -

Pan sighed as she stared at the ceiling, laying down on Bra's white bed. As a birthday present for her six-year-old best friend, the eight-year-old Pan had spent her whole birthday party putting up glow-in-the-dark stars as a surprise. Bra always had a thing for space, and both their parents were so happy at the thoughtful gift. However, every time the raven-haired girl had the chance to look up at her brilliant work, it only reminded her of an angry young Bra, holding up her small balled first because she missed her candle-blowing. She then laughed at the fact that not much had changed from then and now.

Bra threw out white lace shorts and a matching off-the-shoulder shirt with puffed sleeves. She pulled out brown boots and a matching brown hat. Since she grew some cleavage, Bra's favorite pastime was dressing Pan up like a favorite doll. She admired the older girl's body and though she would rarely admit it, Pan could pull off anything she wanted. Of course, that is if she bothered wearing anything but sweatpants—but heck, those looked good on her too. Bra's had dedicated a small portion of her closet for things she would never wear, but wanted Pan to. She then pulled out accessories as she heard a voice from the bed.

"Bra?" Pan grabbed a pillow and plopped her chin onto it, knowing she would get into trouble if she undid the rollers. She watched her best friend throw random things to the floor, and let out a loud sigh. " _Bra?_ "

"Hold your panties. I heard you the first time," she replied, matching the metals of a necklace and a set of rings. She was going for a bohemian look for Pan.

"What do you think about me and Trunks?" the other girl asked plainly. If there was one thing she and Bra could do, it was be blunt. Neither of the two ever understood the stereotype in movies about girls being catty and never saying what they meant. All the women in their lives were pretty straightforward and honest, especially with each other. If anything, the ones that needed deciphering were their dads, uncles, grandfathers, brothers, and even friends.

Bra found cream wool socks that would go with the theme of the outfit. She sighed in contentment at the assemble of colors, taking her time with styling. She then turned to the girl on her bed. "I don't," she shrugged, getting longer boots. "Of course, _unless_ there's an actual you, my best friend, and Trunks, my big brother, to think about."

"Well," the older of the two sat up, "I kissed him. That counts as something, right?" Bra grabbed what she could and flew to her.

"When in Dende's name was this!" she smiled widely, dropping everything in her hands to the foot of her bed and pushing the other girl on the shoulder ever so slightly.

"Relax. It was three years ago. The night of our sleepover," she answered.

"Oh, the one where you skipped out the next day without much of a goodbye?" Bra crossed her arms.

"Nope! You said you wouldn't be angry at that anymore. I practically lived with you for the next three months when I got back, so HA." She stuck her tongue out and then Bra crashed beside her.

" _Fine_. Then, answer me four things: who kissed who, did the other reciprocate, was there tongue, and—" she pushed her off the bed. "EW! That's my brother. How could you!?"

Pan caught herself before she landed on the floor, then floated back onto the bed. "I'll give you that one because it's your brother, but next time I'm punching back!" She rolled to her side and told Bra the facts: "I kissed him. He did kiss back. There was tongue for a second, and you know damn well I had a crush on him for so long."

"Ah! _Had!_ " she pointed out, then the cerulean-haired beauty became confused. "Wait, a second? That's it? What happened?"

"He laughed." Again, she said bluntly. The Briefs girl only sat with her mouth opened, then closed, feeling pity for her friend.

"I'm sorry, Pan. That must've sucked... oh well, he's not good for you anyway," she finished, but Pan opted to laugh. She couldn't feel upset with Bra.

"It's fine, really," she assured. "I'm just asking because... well, do you think it would be weird if I asked him to be my date for the wedding?"

"Um, what wedding?" she snapped accidentally. Pan furrowed her eyebrows.

"You know, uh, after the engagement party, the couple usually tend to marry afterwards. It's kind of a thing. I was thinking about as—Bra, are you okay?"

It only took a single word for her to break. She had been keeping her composure still until she said _marry_. Her smile had broke into a frown, and she was laughing to pretend that she wasn't crying. Covering her face with her hands didn't help either. It only made her cry harder.

Pan did the only thing she could've done, and that's held the younger girl, stroking her hair as she wept. She didn't understand it, but she didn't need to. All she wanted to do was comfort her best friend.

Bra cried onto Pan's chest until her shirt was practically wet. Once she stopped, she cried another ten minutes until her eyes were dry, and then settled her head against Pan as they laid down. She wasn't ready to talk about it, but she knew Pan wouldn't push her to. She only laughed at the ridiculousness of them now cuddling.

"This is it. Now we've done everything," she barely managed a laugh, feeling her stomach still dropping. Bra got up and wiped her face with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to. Dende, I must've looked so pathetic. I cried in front of my dad this morning too, and I doubt he even knew what to do."

"Yeah, but your dad's pretty clueless about most things," Pan joked, hoping it would make her friend laugh. She only got a faint smile.

"Do you think I'm weak?" Bra asked, wiping off her smudged mascara. She knew she should've worn waterproof.

"Bra, I think, at a young age, we both decided not to ever cry because we wanted to look stronger than the boys. We didn't want anybody to think we were weak just because we were girls, who were half their size and actually liked having tea parties," Pan said. Bra only scrunched her eyebrows.

"So?" the other girl asked.

"So," Pan shrugged. "Kids are freaking idiots and should not be deciding life decisions."

With that, she managed to make her laugh. Pan then reached for her hand and rubbed it.

"You're not weak for feeling things either, got that? Look at me! I kissed your brother and got rejected so hard that I took off for a year. Now I'm thinking about asking him to be my _date_. If you want to see something pathetic, there you go." Bra laughed again.

"Yeah, that is kind of pathetic," she smiled.

"See! That's my girl. Now let's fix your makeup and get me into that outfit, alright?"

Bra furrowed her eyebrows and giggled, " _Who are you?_ The Pan I know would've punched me until I stopped crying and burned that outfit until there was a hole in my floor!" That was actually true, but they both agreed to not talk about what happened at Christmas Eve when they were ten ever again.

"Damn, your Pan sounds like a real piece of work." She then rolled off the bed and looked at the pile of clothes Bra dropped. She picked up a sequined dress and red cowboy boots. "This kind of clashes with my hair, don't you think?"

The cerulean-haired beauty rolled her eyes and got off the bed. "It's honestly a disservice that your closet is three times the size of mine," she laughed, picking up the correct garments. "Now, change while I fix my face. Then we'll do something about yours."

"You have such a _great way_ with words, my sweet best friend," Pan chimed sarcastically before heading to the bathroom. Bra then spoke up.

"Hey, you want to know what I think about you and Trunks? Honest to all the kais and Dende?"

"To all the kais and Dende."

"You're too good for him," Bra said plainly.

"You do realize he's your brother, and you're admitting that a Son is better than a Briefs," she joked. Kind of.

"I know what I said," Bra finished, turning to her vanity without another word. The two then hurried and got ready as they were now late.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **A/N** : And we're done! (For now.)

I have a rough draft of the next chapter, but I'm going to move things around, add some more fluff and play around with some concepts before publishing. It's exclusively the engagement party and I'm pretty excited for it! It's just a really easy happy-go-lucky, calm-before-the-storm chapter that was nice to finish a session of nonstop writing. I'm kind of debating whether or not to leave this simply as a romance/normal life fic, or add in some of my favorite space monkeys. Personally, I would _love_ to see King Vegeta give Trunks love advice, but that could be another story idea all together.

 **PenguinsHockey14** : Thank you so much and I hope you continue to like the story! Thank you for reading and reviewing!

 **trunkspanlover89** : Hi again! I really love your reviews because you're so honest about your opinions and they give me something to think about while I write. Thank you so much for reading and I promise I won't make Trunks suffer too much. In fact, I think he might be engaging a little teasing back! Haha! Also for the Bra/Goten/Marron situation, I always wanted Bra and Goten to get together because growing up I really loved Bulma/Goku when he came back in DB and she was checking him out before the world tournament. I really loved the idea that Goten/Bra were basically their mini-me's and have a chance to take up the opportunity they didn't! However, I think I just couldn't let them end up together in this story because it would just be too easy for me as a writer. I didn't really enjoy how I began Goten and Marron either, but I guess it's part of the challenge! Thank you so much for writing your reviews and keeping up with the story. I appreciate it so much.

 **Crystal Blue R** : Thank you so much! That's the sweetest thing I ever heard about my writing and just lets me know I'm doing a good job at this! I hope you continue to like the story!

But anyway, this is when I go back to my thing and cross my fingers that the next chapter is just as good. Also when Bra said Pan was too good for Trunks, it was more of a compliment than her warning her to stay away from her brother. I think with her hurt feelings right now, she's not open to the idea of another happy couple but she does love Pan and her brother—and she's going to get to the bottom of who likes who! Well, until next time.


	4. Part I - Chapter 4

**A/N** : HellloooO! Hi! It's been a while! (Who are we kidding?) Pretty happy with this chapter. It begins the idea of the next adventure and Trunks gets a little payback.

Also, I changed the rating to be on the safe side. Though so far this is fairly appropriate for most ages, rereading the guidelines made me want to make sure that this is safe because we do/will talk about sex and I don't know? I guess I just feel paranoid lol

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything related to the franchise.

\- _**CHAPTER 4**_ -

Trunks had taken a small detour to the party when he heard two loud screams from down the hall. He kicked down the metal door to find Bra pinning down Pan with one hand as she pointed tweezers near her face.

"IT'S JUST AN EYELASH EXTENSION! IT'S NOT GOING TO KILL YOU!" the younger of the two screamed.

"YOU'VE POKED ME IN THE EYE TWICE!" the older grunted. They were unbothered until they noticed the confused boy standing on the knocked down door.

Bra huffed, "Trunks! What the heck did you do that for?!" He only blushed as his little sister's angered face reminded him so much of his mother.

"I, uh, um—there was screaming!" A small drop of terrified sweat dripped from his forehead. "I thought you two were being attacked!"

Only that response only angered them more. "And what?! You didn't think we could take care of ourselves?" Pan glared at him, but it only turned his rosy cheeks into a hot crimson.

"I didn't say that! I just—" he gulped, trying to think of a plausible excuse. He then put his hands on his hips. His eyebrows met in the middle in frustration. "Hey! Don't be mad at me for thinking you were in danger! This is not me being a sexist! Is it wrong I want to protect people who are important to me? I think not!"

The two girls blushed with their eyes wide. Trunks, despite inheriting his father's scowling looks, hardly yelled at them back. He usually rolled his eyes and let them return back to their screaming match.

"Well, uh," Bra looked at Pan before returning her eyes to her brother who was standing with his arms folded and looking taller than he was already abnormally. "I guess we didn't think of that."

"Yeah, um, Trunks," Pan muttered, feeling her cheeks becoming warmer. "I guess we forgot we're, uh—" she coughed, "— _important to you_. We're sorry."

He looked away pretending he was angry, but he had been embarrassed at his choice of words that had been repeated back by Pan. He coughed to make sure his voice didn't change pitch. "Well, you should be," he said, turning back to them. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to the party downstairs that we're all already late for."

The two blinked as he walked out of the room. He heard more screaming as he made it down the hall.

By four in the evening, the leaves in the trees were glimmering gold as everyone's glasses were stained red. Trunks always liked how much detail his grandfather built for the arborium—the plants, the type of wildlife, and not to mention, the artificial light that duplicated the sun on a perfect cloudless day. Around this time, it began to set like the real thing, turning the metal walls around them hints of pinks and lilacs.

Bulma spotted her handsome son and called him over by waving her half-empty green glass bottle. He flew over to her and his cheeks were the same color as her wine as she told the rest of her moms-only table, "Seee! Isn't he sooo cute!" She was drunk, but luckily, a happy drunk rather than her kind of ruthless drunk that poked at his father, demanding him to teach her how to fight. Trunks only became more red as she reached over to pinch his cheeks. "My beautiful boy! So smart, so handsome, so tall! Gosh, hooow did you become so tall?"

"Mother... please," he slightly groaned. Even at thirty-six, she still managed to make him feel like he was still the baby she carried around in battlefields. Bulma crashed into his chest and gave him a tight embrace. "Do you want some water? Maybe it'll help you feel better."

The older woman looked up at him and smiled. Then she quickly frowned. "When are you going to get married and give me some grand-babies!" she almost begged instead of scolded. His body temperature only rised at her request, making him sweat slightly in his turtleneck.

"Do we really have to talk about _my_ love life? Marron and Goten are the ones getting married!" he tried to deflect, but it only caused the table to moan. Or at least, just the short man he didn't notice wedged between his wife and the mother of the groom.

"Oh, don't remind me!" Krillin exclaimed. Eighteen only looked at her husband and sighed.

"Weren't you the one who high-fived Goku when we caught them kissing by the lake?" she said in her usual monotone, pressing her check against her knuckles.

"Yeah!" her husband said nervously, pressing his two index fingers together. Trunks noticed his thinning and graying hair. _After so long, Krillin wasn't going to have a choice to be bald or not_ , he thought. The suddenly, the older man's voice became sad. "But I didn't think they would be getting married so soon! I at least expected Trunks to get married first!"

Trunks turned to him in embarrassment. "Me?! Why me? Goten and Marron have practically been married since they were kids!"

"Now, that's true," Chichi sighed, running her finger in slow circles on the rim of her glass. "I know he's thirty-five, but I can't help but see Goten still as my little baby boy! He just _decided_ on opening his own pet clinic last year, and now he's getting married! Soon, he and Marron are going to have babies and I'm going to be a grandma... _again!_ "

"Well, at least, you still look just as great as you did when Pan was born!" Videl tried to cheer her up, but a thoughtful look took over her mother-in-law's face.

"And when Pan has a baby, I'll be a _great_ -grandma," she said quietly, staring off to an empty space. Videl tapped her until she snapped back into reality.

"Please! I would love to be a grandma!" the Briefs woman retorted, sitting back down in her seat.

"Yeah, I guess the idea of another baby would be nice," Videl scratched her chin. "Now that Pan's twenty-two, I wished we had another one around. I mean, as long as it doesn't come out of me!" she laughed, causing the rest of the table to roar the same.

Bulma's smile then perked up, raising her index finger as she normally did when she had an idea. "I know!" She turned to Trunks, "How about you and Pan make us some beautiful grand-babies? Your eyes with her smile would be the cutest—"

"Mom!" he cut her off, blushing—once again, uncontrollably.

"Why not! Normal earthling women are getting too—"

" _MOM_ ," he said again. Just then, he felt an arm being hooked into his. The familiar perfume of vanilla and peonies scratched his nose.

"Mom! Leave Trunks alone," Bra huffed. "You're the one who gave him that fancy corporate job in the first place. You think he's going to find a nice girl you and dad approve of in that cramped office? Nope. Didn't think so." She didn't give the older woman much time to interject as she levitated away with her big brother.

"Thanks, sis," Trunks sighed in relief. She flew them to the small bed of flowers near the koi pond, away from the rest of the guests. The two siblings sat down, looking across the small body of water to the ongoing party. It was a life of its own.

Master Roshi as well as Ox King sat on a hill, sharing dirty magazines as Oolong sprawled out on the grass. Seventeen was talking to Marron, playing with the Briefs's old cats who joined the party. Gohan and Goku had Goten sat in a chair as they stood behind him, talking about the woes and benefits of marriage. Mr. Satan sat with Buu who had became his new caretaker, making sure he ate and allowing him to sit beside him to be more comfortable. Yamcha, Tien, and the currently indigo-haired Launch sat at a table laughing with Chiaotzu and Puar. Vegeta sat alone at his usual tree as Uub sat with Dende and Piccolo, quietly eating and talking among themselves. The table of mothers and Krillin cheered with refilled glasses of wine once again.

Pan floated to the pond where her and Bra's once legendary toddler fight had ended. She carried her large bowl of food in one hand and Bra's small box of sushi in the other. She landed between the two Briefs, laughing at something she overheard.

"My dad and grandpa think Goten's a virgin!" she quietly snickered, handing her friend her food. "They're giving him the bird and the bees, as if he didn't move out as soon as he turned nineteen!" She then stuffed a lobster roll in her mouth, chewing and laughing at the same time before choking. Bra tapped her friend's back, helping her digest.

"Please, the mom squad were practically asking Trunks when he's going to get a baby in somebody! Can you imagine _this_ doofus as a dad?" Bra popped a piece of rice and fish in her mouth. Pan turned, looked up and down at him, and then swallowed her food so she could talk.

"I think Trunks would be a good dad," Pan said simply before biting into her sandwich. Bra noticed the small smile on his lips. "I mean, everyone thought Vegeta was a shit dad, but you two turned out alright!"

Trunks chuckled as he took a slice of grilled zucchini from Pan's bowl. Bra squinted her eyes slightly, expecting the older girl to yell. Taking food from a Son was dangerous! Yet, she didn't say anything. The two just quietly ate.

"I can't imagine the day we become _them_ ," Bra said, referring to the group of adults who were now, for some reason, clapping.

"Oh, we will," Trunks sighed. "You're gonna be holding two wine bottles like Mom while Pan cheers you on, even though we all tried to stop you. Marron is going to be bawling like Krillin as Goten gives the same sex talk to his kid. I'm going to be scowling under a tree like Dad, while our actual father is taking care of Mom like Buu and the world champion over there. Master Roshi would still be looking at a porn even though it's a family event," he finished with a laugh. The two girls only rolled their eyes.

"Don't be so cynical, big brother," the little sister said, setting down her finished box of food.

"Yeah, it's a party!" Pan then set down her own finished bowl, and stood up to stretch. "Speaking of which, I think it's time we see my grandma do the Chichi," she giggled before flying over to Bulma, who thought it brilliant to turn on some music. Sure enough, lights flashed as Chichi began her famous dance moves. The crowd cheered, reliving their youth.

On the other side of the pond, Bra watched her brother stare at their mutual best friend flying around to bring people to the dance floor. She had gotten even Piccolo to waltz with her briefly.

Trunks laughed to himself as Roshi came behind Pan and she cleverly elbowed him away as she danced with Marron. Bra only squinted before a small smile came upon her lips to so, and then she turned away to look elsewhere. He felt her eyes, the same shade of blue eyes like his, and he only knew it meant she had something to say.

"What?" he said plainly.

"Nothing," she shrugged.

He rolled his eyes. "I know you have something to say," he rebutted.

Bra paused for a moment and then a smile curled on her lips. She only let out a faint laugh, "Wanna dance?"

And with that, the two Briefs children flew to the white-painted wood floor and joined their friends and family. As cultivated and graceful the well-trained Z-fighters were in their fighting moves, they didn't have the same fluid movements in their dancing skills. Every bulging muscle seem to only make them more stiff.

The older human women made small movements with their bodies, making sure they didn't strain themselves. They laughed and complained about needing senzu beans when a step went further than they expected. The younger generation seemed to jump more rather than dance. There was a mixture of mocking the chicken dance and just crossing their arms to make it seem like they knew any better. Nonetheless, dancing was a talent no one truly had. However, it was a moment everyone agreed was, indeed, fun.

Pan pulled Bra from his hands, and the two began synchronizing their hips to the beat. The two girls laughed, shimming their bodies toward each other and singing along with the wrong lyrics. The old pervert Roshi made his way to the carefree dancers—but not before Vegeta, Gohan and the now-blonde Launch smacked three large lumps on his head before he could even try.

Bulma only giggled as her husband looked down at the old hermit. She turned her head to watch the girls, feeling reminiscent of her own youth before all her iconic adventures turned to two kids and a grumpy husband that she adored. "You two better enjoy that Saiyan blood while you still can! Before you know it, you're going to be like me and Chichi over here!" The two older woman laughed.

Bra blushed as the thought of her becoming her mother tickled her brain. Pan only returned a smile, "Well if we end up looking like you both when we're older, good thing for us!" Now the older versions of themselves had painted rose cheeks, flattered at the compliment.

When it was finally considered night in the artificial room, the dancing became slower and glasses of champagne were now being served. Trunks stole a bottle and flew to the small area near the pond where his friends were. Goten had been laying his head on Marron's lap as Bra made a flower crown for Pan who stuffed herself with more food. He crashed down between the two pairs, handing them cups with generous amounts of glittering liquor.

"Thaaaank, yooou!" Bra snatched the bottle from his hand and gave him her glass. She then chugged a fair amount so he didn't want to steal it back.

"You know, any _other_ older brother would've used this as blackmail," he grunted as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Pan sat up, sipping just an inch of the rim of her overflowing drink.

"Oh, please. You're the one who gave Bra her first beer in the first place!" She licked the lingering drops of alcohol on her mouth and they all laughed as flower petals were swallowed into her black hair. Pan finished her drink and put the cup in her empty bowl. "Speaking of beer, Marron," she coughed. "Who's your maid of honor? Bra may have an attention for detail, but she also can throw you a wonderful bachelorette party!"

"What about you?" the blonde laughed.

"You know Pan is just trying to get out of it," Goten sat up to finish his champagne. "Too bad though, we've already decided who's going to be what."

"Oh, yeah! I forgot about your text." Trunks scratched his nose, remembering Goten asked him to get ordained before the wedding. The two clueless girls looked at him, trying to read his mind. Unfortunately, he was more concerned about how to snag another bottle of champagne from his mother's grasp.

Marron looked at Bra and smiled, "We want you to be Goten's _best man_ —or woman, if you prefer."

The younger girl blinked, repeating the request. "Y-you want me... to be the best man?" She looked at Goten who had already been smiling. Pan noticed her best friend's hesitation and the thought of Bra crying earlier suddenly clicked. She opened up her mouth to speak, but the Briefs girl quickly cut her off. "I would love to!" she agreed, hugging Marron.

"Pan, you're my maid of honor—but don't worry, your main job is to just show up," the blonde said past Bra's shoulder. She couldn't see the slight frown she tried biting her lip to stop. She wanted to cry, to have an excuse to leave—but for the first time within the past day, she couldn't. She only smiled.

"Yes!" exclaimed Pan before turning to Trunks. "Wait, what the heck are you doing if you're not the best man?"

"I'm officiating the wedding!" Trunks nervously snapped, seeing her glare. Her face softened and he sighed in relief.

"Well, geez, don't get your panties in a bunch," Pan laughed as well did the other three friends.

Goten rolled his neck, yawning after a long day of mingling and saying thanks to everyone's best wishes. "I also forgot to mention, we don't want a bachelor or bachelorette party." Bra, Pan, and Trunks looked at him. "Well, not in the traditional sense. What's the point of celebrating our last night of being single? Our stories are always better together, as the five of us," he said, lost in his own thoughts.

Bra stared at him carefully, wondering what was going through his head. He was watching his parents slowly waltz as everyone else watched. A part of her thought it was honorable that neither of them wanted one last hurrah, but another part of her sunk into the grass. She knew he wanted to get married as soon as possible, without the nonsense and typical traditions. He was already done with all the trials of wild parties that she remembered he and Trunks ran through. She couldn't help but feel awe for the man she knew she was falling for, even though she also knew better not to.

"I definitely want to invite Uub so we'll have an even number—but hey, what do you guys say? Let's spend the summer gathering the Dragon Balls!" he said, turning to the rest of them. "It's going to take a while to have my pet clinic completely finished and Gohan already said he'll drop in to see the progress. Marron's school is out so she doesn't have to teach until the fall again. Trunks, man, you can definitely get out of your office," he added a laugh. Then the lavender-haired man only rolled his eyes. "I think we could ask your mom to step in for a while! Pan, you could start that job in Hercule's gym in the fall and it's not like he's going to argue you about it. I can get Uub on board if I ask my dad to go look over his village while he's gone. So how about it? We'll leave in a month to make sure our bills and stuff are taken care of, but c'mon, I don't want our parents to be the only one with a story."

"You do realize we could fly and pick up everything in one day right?" Pan interjected.

"Where's your sense of adventure! Plus, this would be your wedding gifts to us. I mean, you three are all stinking rich and could at least buy us a new toaster—but we're fine with this," he explained.

"What would we even wish for?" Trunks asked. Truthfully, he didn't care. He liked the idea of spending a summer tracking down the balls. Imagining all the trouble the would get into—camping under the stars, exploring random cities, meeting different people—it was all he had been missing in the last seventeen years. A part of him wanted to begin right now!

"Whatever we want! It doesn't matter. We could tell Shenron to have a nice day, for all we care. I just want to spend time with you guys," Goten told him. "And of course, with Uub too."

All three of them looked at each other, as if they were telepathically debating what to do. Bra furrowed her eyebrows as Trunks squinted. Pan glanced at the both of them as she was sandwiched between their eyes. She then pushed their faces away, and gave her uncle a friendly smile. "Well, I already know where the four star ball is! We could end our trip there," and with that, everyone agreed to their new summer adventure.

* * *

\- _LATER_ -

The party died down once Vegeta had carried his vomiting wife back inside their home. The sweet Launch carried Chiaotzu as Tien and Yamcha carried leftovers and Master Roshi. Goten and Marron left before the fifth round of drinks were passed around, while Goku used Instant Transmission to take Chichi and Ox King back to their village. Pan was helping Bra and Trunks pick up things before the robots came.

Videl thanked Buu for taking her father home, and waited until Gohan said his goodbyes to Pan. The poor father had practically been building a shrine to her old empty room since she left the day before. The quarter Saiyan blinked as Gohan stood in front of her pouting.

"Dad, are you—" He cut her off with a tight embrace. Bra and Trunks looked over to the pair, trying not to giggle. There were a lot of differences between the Sons and Briefs, but neither of them could ever get how much affection Pan's family shared. The girl herself was struggling out of her father's grasp as she patted his back.

"Come home sometime! I miss you!" he pleaded rather than said. Since her abrupt goodbye in a scribbled note on a ripped napkin, Gohan was sure he would never be able to let her properly go. She would always be his little Pan, the one he first held in the hospital. For the past month, he had been giving her bogus apartment deals to stall her from leaving home, but that was until his father-in-law gave her a penthouse that was so far away. The last two days only reminded him of her leaving without contact again.

"Dad. _Dad_ ," Pan let out a laugh, rubbing his back. "Dad, I've literally only spent one night at my new place! It's not like I'm _that_ far away. Once I get everything decorated and cozy, you and mom can come over and stay the weekend! We'll have brunch with everyone, including Gramps, Grandpa, and even Grandpa Piccolo!"

"Brunch?! What happened to us wearing our pajamas and eating a bowl of cereal in front of the TV?" he asked, finally letting her go.

"Dad, I said _brunch_ , not a full-course meal. We could sneak in the cereal before everyone comes and yes, I'll wear pajamas too," she comforted him. He couldn't stay angry at her.

Gohan sighed, "Alright, but you have to come home too once in a while, you hear me?"

"Psh, you think I would stay that far away from mom's cooking? I thought you were supposed to be the intelligent professor," she joked, but promised anyway. Gohan and Videl then left, leaving the three to finish waiting for the cleaning robots.

Trunks said good night to the two girls as the floated back to Bra's room. The younger Briefs was unapologetically tired and ready to catch up on two night's worth of sleep. Pan guided her to her bed before leaving to the guest room she always stayed in when she spent the night at their compound.

Trunks stripped himself of his clothes as soon as his bedroom door closed. He walked over to his bathroom, rinse himself of the sticky alcohol that seeped through his shirt when he tried to wrestle the second champagne bottle from his sister. With his soften skin, he shaved the small hairs that peeked through his upper lip, and smothered his face in aftershave and unscented lotion as his mother told him to do every night.

He used his ki to dry off the excess water, and then scrummaged through his drawers for pajama pants. Once he was comfortable, he jumped onto his bed and reached for the PDA that was plugged in on his nightstand. Ms. Olive had emailed him his schedule as usual, but this time, he didn't go through the files she normally attached with it. He simply put it in his drawer so he wouldn't fiddle with the device.

He was about to turn off his lamp light when he heard a familiar _pat, pat, pat_ on his balcony door. Trunks rolled off his bed, and smiled at the the silhouette blurred by the glass. He opened the door and leaned against its trim, crossing his arms and looking smug.

"What do you want, loser?" he asked, but she simply waited for him to come outside to join her.

"I can't sleep. Let's go swimming," Pan said, jumping on top of the white table on his balcony. She had changed to shorts and a t-shirt (that covered her torso), and was now waiting for his answer.

"Can I change first?" He stretched his arms, elongating his sculpted torso. Pan focused on his eyes, not making the same mistake inside the infirmary.

"Why can't you just swim in your underwear?" She crossed her arms.

"That would require me wearing some in the first place," he scratched the back of his head. Pan turned her head sideways to avoid staring at him.

"Fine. Go ahead." She waited until he came back in the black shorts she saw him in earlier. The two in then jumped off the balcony's railing and headed to the east backyard of the the Briefs' compound where the pool was. Trunks jumped in as Pan peeled off her t-shirt and shorts to reveal the only modest bathing suit Bra kept for the quarter Saiyan.

Pan leaped into the pool, swimming towards the bottom of the deepest end. This was where she usually sat and lost her thoughts.

Most nights, she didn't really sleep at the Briefs' regardless how many times she was actually there. When she was a kid, she would simply walk around the vast house until Bulma or Vegeta caught her and escorted her back to her room. If she got up again, Bulma would let her sit in the lab or in the kitchen with her if she too was having a restless night. Vegeta would simply threatened her, which didn't work but it meant she would stay inside the room until her mind bore her.

As she got older—and more importantly, learned how to hide her ki—she found herself either sneaking some training in the GR or swimming in the Briefs' pool. Bra was a heavy sleeper so they never hung out during her late night adventures. Trunks, on the other hand, was somehow always awake like her. That's how they became friends.

She remembered the sleepover the day before Bra's sixteenth birthday party. Since Marron got a job as her history teacher, the Briefs heiress had two celebrations for her milestone: a sleepover with her and Marron, and an actual party for her high school peers. Pan had just come back from her first year of college, and wanted nothing more than to have a nice night in with her closest friends she hadn't seen in so long. It was a face mask and painted nails kind of night—or at least, that had been the intention before Trunks and Goten bought a case of beers for an impromptu guys-only barbecue on his balcony.

Pan had convinced the girls to go crash their small get-together, but truthfully, her crush got the best of her. She hadn't seen Trunks since she left and wondered if he changed while she was away. They had flew from Bra's window and followed the smell of roasted hotdogs, causing the two boys in sweatpants to jump. It was the year that Trunks had let his hair grow to his shoulders, and she had chopped hers short again.

"You two do realize that your wieners are burning, right?" she said, leaning against the railing. Marron had already found her way to Goten's lap as Bra sat on Trunks's chair.

"Hmmm, I wouldn't know, _sir_. You do look like a friend of mine though," Trunks huffed. Pan gasped before flipping him off. He let out a small laugh before walking over to hug her. "Welcome back to West City, Panny!"

She rolled her eyes at the nickname. "You're gonna offer me a beer or what?" He glanced over to Goten who had been surprised as well. Before college, Pan hadn't been much of a drinker. She didn't have time to be. She had trained at Gramps's gym in the morning, went to school, got out, trained with Vegeta, and then went back home to do her homework. She repeated the same routine every day, even paid for some random classes at the local community colleges so she would have the study element on her weekends.

However, when Pan got to her university, her routine changed dramatically. She was on new territory and most of her training had stopped. She couldn't work out at the school's gym because people either heckled her for being Mr. Satan's granddaughter, or steered clear from her for being the four-year-old girl who beat up the large Wild Tiger. She couldn't fly or use any of her ki because she couldn't risk her family's privacy.

Though her new routine provided her more time to study, all she became was unfocused. Her classes became boring then overwhelming. Her free time was spent making appearances at frat parties that wanted to be friends with the world's savior's granddaughter. Nonetheless, she was barely making a passing grade—and she was pretty sure her professors let her slide because of who she was. The only thing she did learn while she was away was how to finish a beer in a matter of seconds.

" _I'm waiting_ ," she crossed an arm around her body and used the other to lend out an open hand. Trunks looked to Goten who merely shrugged, and that's when he passed her a cold beer.

"If Pan's drinking, then so am I!" Bra interjected as the two held opposite ends of the drink. Trunks stared at Pan for a moment, wondering what had changed. Sending her off to college was supposed to be a happy experience—yet, she seemed... worn out.

When he finally let go, he looked over to his little sister who had crossed her arms in a huff. "You're not drinking, Bra," he told her, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You might as well let her first experience be with you than at her party tomorrow with all those strange boys and girls who want to take advantage of her status." Pan gulped the whole can and crushed it, wiping the excess from her lips. "I mean, she'll hate it anyway and you'll be able to look after her."

So that's when Trunks gave his fifteen-year-old sister her first beer—and as predicted, she spat it out the moment it touched her tongue. "Why would you bother drinking that?!"

They weren't sure when the developed a taste for it, but they continued until they last can was being passed between the last two standing. Goten and Marron found their way to inside of his room, probably making out or whatever Trunks wished they didn't use his room for. Bra went to rest before her big day, telling everyone not to wake her up or be too loud that Vegeta woke up. When it was midnight, the four of them held her tight and told her to enjoy her party tomorrow. Now it was two hours later with just them. Pan and Trunks sat at the edge of the balcony with their legs between the railings, drinking whatever was left. He tied his hair as she settled down the empty beer can.

"Gosh, I missed being home," Pan said, but not to him. She had been staring off to the dark sky and thinking about the relief to be in the presence of people who cared less about her family and who she was. Trunks stared at her for a moment, feeling slightly warm from the abundance they drank.

Any other girl than his sister and Marron, he would've kissed, fucked, and never called again. That had been his routine since he took over the company a decade before. It wasn't that he prided himself of necessarily being a player—to be that, you would actually need the skills to talk enough to persuade—but he didn't need to talk for sex. In fact, all it really did take was his name and that was enough for whoever he was with. They didn't care about anything else other than who he was, and he didn't bother leaving his number or remember their names. They usually didn't bother him at his house anyway. Though, he figured they didn't even think to look for him there.

He thought about it with Pan—to kiss her and take her right here on the balcony. No one was around, and she was of age now. Then he decided against it. Not only did she know where he lived, she had the strength to leave him bleeding. He looked away, staring at the same sky she was.

"So, are you going to tell me why you can drink as much as I have and not feel a thing?" he asked, burping into the back of his hand. She laughed at he started to hiccup.

"Hold your breath for a ten seconds," she glanced at his small ponytail and let out a chuckle. "Are you going to tell me why the president of the most affluent company in the world can't afford a haircut?"

He rolled his eyes to her and then nudged her with the side of his shoulder. "No, seriously," he told her, "you can tell me. I _am_ your friend."

Pan furrowed her eyebrows and scoffed. "No, you're not," she replied. He didn't fail to return the same look. It was the truth. She and _Bra_ had been friends, not her and Trunks. They may have saw each other at breakfast on some mornings, trained together on some days, and had family get-togethers on some nights—however, they weren't friends. They were mere acquaintances at best.

"You don't think we're friends?" He admitted he was offended.

"To be friends, we would actually need to hang out and talk. Me and you? We don't hang out and talk. This is literally the first time we have!" Pan fell back on the white concrete and rested her hands on her stomach. "Don't be too upset. As much as I would've liked to be your friend sooner, it would be pretty off-putting for a thirty-year-old man to hand out with a sixteen-year-old girl. So relax."

He didn't notice his hiccups were gone until he had his back against the concrete. He checked his watch for the time. It was now three in the morning, but he didn't feel tired. He looked over to Pan who was feeling the same thing. "So we aren't friends. Do we have to be in order for you to tell me what happened to you in the past year while you were away?"

"I guess not," she tilted her head to the side. "But it could be a starting point." Then she told him about her boring first year of college, and how she was dreading on going back. He listened to every word she said, and didn't even notice the sun was rising. The only reason they got up was because Vegeta spotted them and insisted they train with him that morning. It was safe to say, they both got their asses handed to them.

Ever since that night, whenever she couldn't sleep at the Briefs' compound, she simply went to go bug Trunks. They had been close friends since that night.

Trunks swam around the dark hair that flowed around her. He almost found it amusing how much hair she had. When he was able to reach her, he poked her stomach and swam to the surface. She didn't hesitate to follow.

"Can't really call this a swim if all you do is sit at the bottom of the swimming pool," he splashed her.

"Hey!" Pan yelled, attempting to block her face. She made a wave with her hand to hit him back, but he only laughed. He moved closer to grab her wrists but found her palms instead.

" _Hey_ ," she said softly, feeling their fingers intertwined. The water between them tickled their stomachs as it rushed against them.

By now, Trunks was so close that they only way she was suspended in water was because he didn't let go of her hands. She felt her legs against his, tangling together like fish being caught into one net.

As they began to let the water move them instead, the night air brushed against their wet skin. Cooling down what had been clenching to their saturated shoulders, and teasing what had been freed from the chlorine. He moved their fused hands to her forehead, using the tip of his thumb to unmask her face.

"Hey, yourself," he muffled in a brass tone.

He could've kissed her. If he wanted, he could've let go of his hands from hers and held her face barely close enough so she could only imagine what he tasted like. He could've explored her mouth with his tongue as his hands roamed her fragile spine and freed her from the skin-gripping fabric she was in. He could've pushed her body against the cold tile of the pool, lift her body to the edge, and let his mouth make marks along her entire body as if he was mapping his way to her center. He could've licked her on his lips after she cursed his name under her breath.

Trunks could've done a lot, but he decided that this was not their moment. When he kissed her, he wanted to know she wanted to kiss him back too.

For now, he would only return the favor from the infirmary. He let go of her hands and dunked her head into the water before swimming out of the pool.

"You can't let your guard down!" he laughed, pushing back his wet hair from his face. A shadow under the water moved towards his edge and emerged only its arms.

"Trunks, you doofus!" Pan blew her soaked strands from her face, resisting the urge to jump out of the pool and land a punch to his gut.

"What? Oh, I get it! You wanted to kiss me, right?" he winked. She rolled her eyes and turned her head to look away from him. Pan would not admit to such a thing.

Suddenly, the lights came on from the highest floor of the building next to them. The window pushed open and all they saw was an angry waving fist matched with an angry and wavering face.

"DO YOU TWO KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS?!" Vegeta yelled, vibrating the trees around them.

Trunks looked up to his father, bare-chested and only in a pair of white briefs. He looked over to Pan who had hid her face in the water.

"Sorry about that, dad!" Trunks yelled back. Vegeta only grunted and closed his window. The two swimmers then left the pool to fly back to their rooms.

* * *

 **A/N** : I was honestly cursing myself about the last insert because I just wanted a chapter just purely the engagement party and just be a small cute chapter because I know I've been gradually writing longer and longer chapters... _but_ I thought why not let Trunks have his fun?

Plus, I really wanted to establish the fact that Trunks and Pan didn't start becoming friends until she was 18. I don't know it's just a personal preference, but it was always irked me in story flashbacks, they'll have a fully grown Trunks kissing a prepubescent Pan and then suddenly, he's counting down the clock until she's legal? Like, that just made Trunks feel like a predator to me lol. I wanted their earliest memory of being friends/close as something casual, kind of intimate, but far from making you feel like you're questioning your morals.

 **PenguinsHockey14** : You're welcome and also hello again! I hope the story is going to your liking!

 **trunkspanlover89** : Thank you so much and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter too! I swear I had your review in my mind when I was debating whether or not to have Trunks tease Pan back. I was thinking of making him suffer a bit longer, but then, a game gets boring when

 **Charismatic Beauty** : Hi again! To answer your question: yes, Bra is upset over the entire Goten/Marron engagement. I would like to think that, you know, she is jealous a bit and just overall sad about it because even though she did help them get back together, she never really had a chance to get over their brief time together. It was rushed and unexpected, but at the same time, it was something they both needed. There's this song that I based their relationship on called _Somebody Else_ by The 1975, which I feel like is where Bra is at. It's like, she knows she should move on but there's a little bit of bitterness of at the sight of them engaged that confuses her and how much she does care overwhelms her a lot that she doesn't know what particularly to do about it. However, I do promise that it does get resolved and more or less, there will be a Goten and Bra-because at the same time, I haven't fully explored Marron enough yet for you guys to love her as much as I do. Krillin and Eighteen were always my favorite random pair and I don't expect their daughter to be less than great. So I promise, Goten and Marron aren't a bad pair; I just haven't been able to let them grow in this story yet.

Next chapter won't be the beginning of the Dragon Ball hunting summer, but it'll be two weeks before they do leave and are making arrangements. Since this chapter did mention that Bra's birthday being around the time Pan returned back home from college in the summer, I decided that her birthday is at the end of May and we'll have another nice Pan/Bra moment!


	5. Part I - Chapter 5

**A/N** : This was such a strange chapter to write because it was the first time I didn't just sit down and write everything at once like I normally do. I really wanted this to feel like a simple/short timeline chapter of the past month, catch everyone up with where the characters are, and give some relationships some moments— _but oh my god_.

I just couldn't focus on a simple idea! Which, I mean, would've been nice if I had writer's block but I didn't. I had writer's _broken dam_. I wrote about thirty little stories in general (so I could have options) and the five that I picked that I assumed would be consistent with the story just backfired... soooo bad. Good thing is, I just sat up one night and wrote this. So moral of the story: don't fix anything that isn't broken

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything related to the franchise.

 **Also** : With the rating change, I did want to bring in adult themes. Lemons and blood later, but we do talk about abortion here so if you're sensitive about that, then I apologize in advance. So enjoy! (And again, sorry!)

\- _**CHAPTER 5**_ -

Goten walked purposely around the shop, deciding what he and his friends could use and would need for their long summer months. He picked up sleeping bags, tents, several canteens, questionable amount of trail mix jars, flashlights, hiking backpacks, and a couple pots and pans. Bra only sighed as he threw in lighter fluid once again into the cart. She had been sitting inside of the large metal basket as he piled random things on her lap. She secretly took out the majority of the items when he wasn't looking, and stocked them back in random shelves.

"You _do_ realize we're half-aliens that could generate enough energy to blow down the whole forest, right?" she said, placing the container of lighter fluid on a convenient stand as he pushed them along the aisles.

"Well excuse me for being thoughtful," he smiled, pushing them towards the wall of lanterns.

Bra leaned her head back, looking towards the man pushing the cart. They had been shopping for three hours now, and she only grew more bored. She was working on a new dragon ball radar in her lab when Goten visited, urging her to quickly get into his car. Before she could even ask, he raced out of her driveway and she became anxious of where he was taking her. She only rolled her eyes when they parked in front of West City's newest outdoor store.

"Goten?" she spoke up. He paused the cart and looked down at the blue-haired girl.

"Huh? What is it, Bra?" he blinked.

"Well, I was wondering why we're buying so much camping gear when the capsules I'm bringing have functional houses," she explained. "We don't need all this stuff, really."

"Capsule houses?" he asked with his usual innocent blank stare. "You're not planning on camping out with us?"

"Well, I don't really see the point to," she said. As he stared at her, she finally noticed their close proximity. It was so casual that she never really saw it wrong... at least, not until late. Being just a week since his engagement party, Bra began to notice their usual comfortable gestures and registered them as, well, _not right_. They were inappropriate and disrespectful to Marron, her most loyal friend. She had more honor than that.

Goten stood up straight and scratched his temple. "I guess you're right," he sighed, slipping his hands in his jean pockets. He let out a slight chuckle, "I'm sorry, Bra. I guess I forgot your genuineness."

She raised an eyebrow, rolling over to her stomach and holding onto the cart's metal sides. "You alright, Goten?" she asked.

"I guess not," he answered, still holding his smile. He leaned against metal rod of the shopping cart. She froze at his sudden closeness again. "Say you want to ditch this place and get an ice cream or something?"

"Y-yeah sure," she replied, climbing out. The two friends looked around the store before ditching their full cart behind a stack of bean cans. Goten had pulled out his car capsule, but Bra asked if they could walk instead.

They found themselves sitting on a fountain with their melted cones, baking slowly in the sun. Goten removed his thin flannel and settled it beside him. Bra licked her fingers clean from the unfrozen cream. He blushed as a memory he blocked out flashed in his mind, one from a summer he forgotten.

It was a few years ago, when it was just the two of them. He had crashed onto her bed as she did the same. The air conditioning was broken and they had been relying on the six fans buzzing within her room. Goten tried to laugh, but was caught by his own dry throat. They were both nude, but neither seemed to care if the other looked. This had pretty much been their outfits since the summer began.

"We're so hopeless," Bra laughed, turning her head to him. A drop of sweat cascaded from her temple down to her hairline. "I should be used to Pan leaving by now since I don't get to see her when she's away at college anyway. Yet, here I am doing absolutely nothing."

"You're telling me," he sighed, moving his hair from his face. He hadn't kept up with hair appointments Marron usually scheduled for him. He let it grow out and didn't bother styling it as he normally did. It was only a month later since she left that his hair grew to his shoulders in choppy locks. "I went out with Trunks last night, and it was terrible. I should feel like a free man, but all I felt was out of place. I ended up leaving early, and that wasn't even much of a relief."

"Don't tell me—my brother is _still_ at the sleazy club he took you to last night?" she laughed. "Even he's hopeless, but we can't help him. He's ditched us too."

"He's been weird since Pan left, but I guess it makes sense. She's the only one who can talk to his arrogant self when none of us gets it." Goten rested his hands behind his head and sighed. Bra naturally moved her head against his torso, running her fingers along her stomach.

"Yeah because she's pretty arrogant herself sometimes too," her giggle vibrated his chest. She knew the both of them missed their friends. It had only been a month and all they did was watch TV and, well, _this_. However, she decided not to dwell on it. "But like you said, they're not doing what they're doing because of us. Therefore, we can't help them unless they ask for it."

"Well, I hope they find whatever they're searching for soon," was his only reply. They stayed there silently, contemplating their thoughts until Goten saw her raised knees. Bra trailed a hand below her, using a finger to slightly stroke her new exposed skin. The slight waves of air grazing the ghost of her wet finger only caused her breathing to slow down. His cheeks became hot when he realized what she was doing, but he froze from a reaction.

Bra hadn't really paid much attention to the eyes stuck on her. She was tired of talking about what they couldn't control, and wanted nothing more than to be in charge of her own happiness—even if it was a small act like this. She moved her two fingers in circles as her other hand pulled on her chest. When she felt a coldness underneath as something wet dripped out of her, her two fingers teased her opening before separating her lips. She moved the hand from her breast to her mouth, licking a single finger and looking back at him. She was _daring_ him to do something.

Goten quickly snapped out of his thoughts, trying to think of, well... _anything else_. How messed up was he to be thinking of that when he was engaged? Nonetheless, when the subject at that memory was helping him plan his own proposal nearly a week ago? He crossed his legs and quickly finished his cone that melted into pure liquid.

Bra held her dirty napkin in her hand, and incinerated the vanilla-stained paper so she wouldn't have to get up to throw it away. The sun was no longer above them but instead warming their backs as the water below cooled their thighs. She glanced at her watch and stretched, turning to Goten who had been looking at random birds flying in the sky. She patted his shoulder, causing him to jump and drop into the fountain.

"Uh, you alright there?" Bra blinked, sorry to have startled him.

Goten brushed his hair from his face, feeling the buzzed undercut he got done a few days ago. "Yeah, I'm sorry," he laughed. "Do you have to go?"

She sighed, "Yeah, I wasn't meant to stay for long."

* * *

\- _ANOTHER WEEK LATER_ -

Pan landed on the white stone tiles of the Lookout. Well, she _dropped_ onto the floor and faintly laughed before she passed out. Dende only sighed, walking over to the half-dead girl and hovering his hands above her. In a few minutes, she opened her eyes and smiled to her green friend.

"Thanks, Guardian," she coughed, sitting up. She raised a hand for him to stop healing her. She would need to endure some of the pain to build resistance. Dende sat beside her, curiously watching her push the same wild hair her father once possessed away from her face. He waited for Mr. Popo to bring them the water he requested as he help her maintain balance.

"Vegeta is sure pushing you more than he normally would," he commented, handing her the cup from the Lookout's caretaker. Mr. Popo then left to resume his garden duties before the two could even thank him. He quietly sipped as Pan drank everything in one gulp.

She wiped the reminiscent liquid from her mouth, sighing in contentment as it moved down her sore throat. She had practically lost her voice from the punch Vegeta landed on her neck before she came to the Lookout. "Oh, that's the just way he teaches," she smiled reassuringly, coughing to strengthen her vocal chords. "I mean, this has to be the fastest time I used Instant Transmission and Grandpa Goku barely taught me a week and a half ago! If I could materialize here without touching my head to concentrate and with barely any energy left, then using it when I'm healthy and well should be a snap. Think of how useful it would be when we're looking for the dragon balls!"

" _Oh_ ," he said in surprise before returning the grin. He liked her positive attitude. It was a familiar take, one that reminded him of her parents. "I guess I didn't think of that. Saiyans are sure an interesting species. Vegeta doesn't mind you coming here in the middle of training?"

"Are you kidding? He loves it! I only become stronger for every fatal injury he gives me. Granted, it comes with a cost, but it makes him only push harder while I'm still here! When he does that, he makes me a better fighter too," she said with a face full of determination. She stood up with her knees slightly wobbling, catching her footing before she fell onto her face again. Pan then raised her palm and a ball of growing energy formed. "Speaking of which, I should head back. We pushed the gravity to 550G and it's my turn to knock him out. Bye, Dende!"

"Bu-" She disappeared before he could even finish. The Guardian of the Earth only sighed. "I was going to suggest she stopped at Korin's for senzu beans so she wouldn't come back here, but I guess not."

A familiar gruff laugh came behind him. Dende turned to find Piccolo levitating in the air with his legs crossed. "She won't listen. If you thought Goku was the stubborn fighter of that family, then you're not that great of a guardian," he said in his usual monotone. The younger of two only welcomed the older one with a warm smile.

"I suppose so. She's much of your family as well as Goku's," Dende commented. A flush of pink came over Piccolo's green skin.

It was only a second later when the two Namekians jumped as Pan returned with a hurt Trunks in her arms. She laughed awkwardly and flashed the famous smile she inherited—the one that had been recognized as a physical _oops_.

"Um, Dende, can you heal him? I, uh, accidentally knocked him out when I teleported back," she explained. A small groan escaped from the injured boy's mouth.

"I... wasn't even... training," he barely lifted his head when she also accidentally dropped him on the ground. Pan waved to them as she began to dematerialize again.

"I'll pick him up in ten minutes! Let me go beat up Ve—" and the enthusiastic fighter disappeared again before she could finish.

Dende smiled to the man in the burned suit. He also had been visiting the Lookout frequently in the past couple of weeks. The Guardian lost count of how many times Pan teleported to Trunks instead of Vegeta, knocking him out almost always. "Hopefully she does come back this time. I'm starting to think she's doing this on purpose," he chuckled over the boy's crisp body.

* * *

\- _AND ANOTHER WEEK_ -

Pan bent backwards to relieve some tension in her spine. She had been sitting down in Bra's very sterile lab for nearly an hour as Bulma left to fix the GR and her teacher decided he needed a snack. Bra had been focusing on what Pan called 'a loud, screaming metal ball' as she tried to meditate. Though, she couldn't keep much focus when her mind scrambled random thoughts in her head.

She let out out a sigh, "Here I thought I was over all this..."

"What?" Bra interjected. Pan blushed, realizing her thoughts left her mouth instead of staying in her mind.

"Oh! Nothing... nothing at all," she quickly offered a laugh, an awkward one at that, but she tried to play it off. Of course, even without looking up from her work station, Bra knew better.

"So... did you ever ask Trunks to be your date to the wedding?" she asked casually. Again, she already knew the answer. Since the engagement party, Pan more or less avoided Trunks—or at least, she tried to. She skipped group dinners, rarely hung out at the house unless it was the GR or Bra's lab, and even took it upon herself to perfect her Instant Transmission technique so she could avoid run-ins with him.

Unfortunately, to use Instant Transmission, she needed to concentrate on someone's ki. Besides Dende, the only ki she seem to only focus on was Trunks. (Much to both their dismay of course, considering she was always trying to surprise Vegeta with an energy attack when she got back.) It got to the point where her clouded head interfered with her training and made her an easy target for her teacher. Bra was sure her father purposely broke the gravitation system because he was tired of not fighting Pan at her best.

The older girl fell back, levitating herself on a bed of ki. She only sighed as her friend laughed at the gesture. "I mean, I get that he's busy with transferring documents to my mom and all, but I expected for you to just tell him he was your date already," Bra said, tightening a screw. "What happened to confident Pan who didn't care about what my clueless brother thought?"

"I was wondering the same thing." She turned her body around to face her friend. "I just don't get it. One moment, I feel so in control when I'm a situation with him. Then the next..." she paused, remembering being suspended in the pool. She was going to ask Trunks right after they got out of the water, but it was just _that_ moment. All she could think about was _not_ being kissed afterwards. It made her feel inadequate. "It feels so ridiculous. I can't even manage a conversation with him now. I can't even fly by his office! The only reason I can talk to him lately is because I'm apologizing, but that's no better," she sighed.

"I've been noticing the burned holes on his clothes!" Bra added a laugh. "But what's the big deal? You've bounced back before when you two got close. I mean, granted, it's taken a while but at least, you're not disappearing into the night and leaving us for a year."

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" the older girl squinted, shaking her head.

"Nope, but at least you know what happened while you were away," Bra said, still not looking up from her station. It was true—Bra told Pan _everything_ the morning after the engagement party. It didn't take much to get her to confess when Pan jumped on her bed to wake her up that day. She had caught Bra crying again under her sheets, and Pan just held her until she was ready to talk. She didn't judge her, or even treated her uncle different. She respected that they had a time together, but encouraged Bra that she was brave for still wanting to be his best man. It was complicated and messy, but she did what she could for her best friend.

"Well, _fine_... but eventually, you have to get over it. I mean, I'm embarrassed how I left things and don't need to be reminded," she said thoughtlessly. Bra only smiled at her bluntness. "Speaking of which, how is it that one small moment can make me feel like that dumb childish girl all over again? Nothing even happened."

"What _did_ happen, by the way? You're forgetting you haven't told me anything!" the Brief heiress retorted. Pan rolled her eyes, being reminded of Bulma when she was about to be scolded as a child. She touched down on the too-good-to-be-true-white tiles of Bra's lab, and walked over to her friend.

"Grab my hands," she directed. Bra only raised an eyebrow but followed anyway. The older girl was now sitting on her lap and smiling, causing her to blush at their closeness. "Now, say 'hey,' but really soft and like you're surprised because it looks like I'm going to kiss you."

Bra furrowed her eyebrows, and then closed her eyes to imagine the scene Pan was setting. Drifting in water, slightly shivering, but trying to remain still. She let out her softest, " _Hey_."

Pan cocked her head slightly to the right, still slightly smiling. She intertwined the other girl's fingers into hers and held it for a moment. She transferred some of her energy so Bra could feel the slight vibration she felt that night. The other girl was surprised at the sensation, feeling vulnerable, awkward and shy all at once. It traveled from her hands and rhythmically moved all over her body.

Pan used her thumb from their fused hands and moved a strand from Bra's face before trailing the tip against her jawline. She looked away, staring at their fingers before meeting her eyes once again. "Hey, yourself," she imitated, leaning in slightly and painfully slow.

Bra felt her eyes shutting as Pan moved closer. When she blinked, the girl had untangled their fingers and flew back to where she was before, waiting for her reaction. Bra shook her head, trying to regain herself from the moment.

" _Wow_ ," was all she let out. Pan waved her arms angrily, matching close to a frustrated chimp whose bananas were taken from them.

"Right? _Right!_ " she argued with her. "Since that moment, I've been so knocked off my game and it sucks!"

"Wow," Bra nodded, turning back to her friend. "He got you... _so good!_ "

"So good!"

"Wow!"

"I know!"

"My _brother_ did that? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I was there!"

"How are you able to function after that?!" Bra asked.

"I haven't! I've broken my ribs at least eight times by now because I can't focus on anything else!" Pan argued.

"Well, how do you expect to get him back then?" she rebutted.

Pan threw her arms in the air out of frustration once again. "I don't even think I can! Honestly, Bra, I just feel like that naive girl who actually did kiss him that one night. Except now..." Her words drifted into a silence before she took a deep breath. "Bra, what am I going to do? In a week, we're going to be camping with each other for two months. I can't get my way out of that—and even if I did, I magically teleport myself back to him anyway."

"I'm sorry, Pan. I know that sucks," she tried to empathized. She then dropped her friendly face, and traded it in for a serious one. "But you're not that girl anymore. You hear me?"

Pan only looked at her.

"You're not that insecure girl with a crush on your best friend's brother, and you're too fearless to be scared of a boy—my _doofus_ brother, nonetheless!" Bra encouraged. "So snap out of it. Say you kiss him again. Who cares? If he doesn't feel the same way back? Oh well! You put yourself out there and that's what counts. If you get hurt, well then, so what? I'll pick you back up!"

"Um, I'm not sure if I'll be into _your_ kind of picking up," Pan attempted a joke. "Not because you're a girl, but because, _well_ —"

"Cheap but as long as you get your head out of your ass and start being the person I know you are, then I'll let it slide." Bra swiveled her seat back to her station.

"I will I promise," she said, thinking about flying around the city for a while. Pan walked over to Bra and hugged her, startling her a bit. "Thanks for the pep talk. I'm here for you too, alright? Even if I do become your sister-in-law, you'll always be my favorite Brief."

"Panna, you were _always_ a sister to me. In laws or not!" she smiled. "If you have sex with my brother, then I'll just let King Yemma decide whether or not that's considered incest adjacent."

Pan kissed the back of her head and sighed, "You couldn't let us have one sentimental moment, could you? Alright, later."

Bra barely flinched as the older girl flew out of her lab within seconds.

* * *

\- _DAY BEFORE SUMMER_ -

Trunks tapped his foot impatiently as the elevator slowly made its way down. Today was his last day of being president before he temporarily handed the job to his mother again. He wanted nothing more than to leave and head to Pan's for the farewell-slash-birthday party with his family, the Sons (and their extensive members), Krillin's family, and a few of Uub's siblings he gotten the chance to know in the past couple decades.

Once he stepped out from his corporate prison, he made way to an empty alley, changed to his casual clothes, and decided to head to the party by air. He cascaded down the familiar slither between his favorite restaurant and the building next door, taking in the scent of tomato and garlic. He was making his way to the tall building across the street when he saw a familiar blonde carrying takeout.

"Marron?" he squinted. She was about to wave, but she had been carrying several bags and boxes of food. Trunks rushed to her side to help before she dropped anything. His mouth watered as he smelled his favorite pizza.

"Trunks! You've made it just in time," she laughed, relieved that he had taken most of items. "Pan insisted I pick up a few pizzas and lasagnas from here before you came. She would've done it but her and Piccolo are flying around the world and picking up food she claims to be the best. I'm a bit skeptical, but we didn't have much of a choice. Somehow, my dad and Goku ruined her stove so we're all just doing what we can! Chichi is with your mom cooking what wasn't ruined at your house. Your little sister went to go copious amounts of bottles with her new legal ID, and my fiance is flying around on a cloud chasing a small dinosaur. Aren't you glad we have normal lives? Gosh, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

He offered her a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry about it. I know you're stressed with planning the wedding in so little time," he said as they crossed the street. "But, uh, what kind of pizzas did you order?" He knew the answer, but wanted to distract himself from devouring it in front of her. He did skip lunch.

"You're going to have ask Pan, or wait until we get to her floor. She called ahead and all I overheard was something as a usual, I guess? I honestly didn't even realize she ate there a lot since—well, between training and surprise attacking everyone with camera flashes in the last month—she's been living off brownie mix and my fridge!" She paused as they entered the lobby, turning a few heads with their large stack of food. "Gosh, I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

Trunks didn't mind it. The more she talked, the less he was tempted to throw out his manners and shove all the pizzas down his mouth. Plus, he hadn't heard much from Pan in the past month. The only time he saw her was when she blasted him, and then teleported him to Dende's, always forgetting to pick him back up. He didn't press her on her whereabouts because he, himself, was playing the avoiding game.

Truthfully, after their almost kiss, he felt restless. He wanted to see her, talk to her, and keep their routine of office visits and random conversations. He just couldn't. Besides keeping his duties as president of the thriving Capsule Corp., he had reluctantly made a promise to his father he was beginning to regret.

That morning after, he was going to knock on her room door and kiss her honestly. He couldn't sleep, leaving the way things were. A part of him argued that he was right to not kiss her yet. He had to be sure of her feelings, and plan this move out properly. Not kissing her gave him the advantage of doing the next moment right.

However, another part of him just thought he was an idiot. They were in the pool, it was moonlit, and their moment was intimate. She was staring at him, waiting for him to do something! Yet, he childishly dunked her head. That _was_ their moment, and he blew it. He absolutely, positively squandered and threw away one of the best chances of kissing her to just allow her time to forget about the whole thing happening in the first place.

So that morning, he said screw it. He was going to knock on her room door and kiss her. If she didn't like it, she would punch him and his ego would be less bruised when she did so. It was the perfect plan... before he ran into his dad. Again. He was still unchanged from just his white briefs, and floating in the air with his arms crossed.

"Don't even think about it, boy," the old man told him, stopping him in his tracks. "She's my student, and she's picked up a few tricks since she stopped caring about that childish fondness she had towards you."

It was harsh, but he decided to be indifferent. At least, for the moment. "I think she's old enough to make her own decisions, Father. Plus since did you start caring about other people?" It was a cheap shot, but he was growing impatient.

"Have you even thought your head through? Or are you simply acting on your ridiculous hormones?" he scowled. "She's not one of your random women your mother pays the press to not leak, nor is she a weak human who doesn't have the possibility to kill you. By the training you did yesterday, I'll tell you she could do it without much of an effort."

"Can't you insult me another time? You've already been doing it my whole life, and it could wait another minute," he knew he shouldn't have been sarcastic, but he was a bit angered. Unfortunately, it only made Vegeta creepily smirk.

"Getting brave now, son? Good. Remember that since you've been getting soft in that office your mother handed you. I'll expect that in the next few weeks when you train with me in the morning before work."

Trunks rolled his eyes, but still respected the order. Vegeta wasn't finished, however.

"That isn't the subject at hand though. You will not get involve with Pan in the next month while I kick up her training. I heard you and your sister making plans to gather the dragon balls. I have no care about it because at least you two will get out of this house and finally be reliant of your own skill sets to survive," he said bluntly.

"Geez, dad. Don't hold back your compliments now. It's not like we're your children or anything," the younger sighed.

"Get angry all you want, boy. You're only revealing your weaknesses to me, and I will fix those as you join me in training again," Vegeta told him. "Because if you'd shut up and listen, all I'm telling you is not be involve with the girl while she's still under my training. If I'm correct, she's confused and I plan on taking advantage of that. She needs to learn how to think on her feet while her head isn't straight. This isn't about you or her. This is about me being a great teacher. Understand?"

"So, let me get this straight—I'm going to let you beat up the girl I want to be with just so your ego feels better?" Trunks, truthfully, disliked talking to his father in this tone. He found it distasteful. After his grandfather passed, he wanted to be taken seriously and be respected as the adult man he was. Sarcasm was a sign someone was getting under his skin so he rarely used it. Yet, a part of him couldn't stop during this conversation.

" _Let me?_ " Vegeta laughed. "She doesn't belong to you, boy. You should be thankful I'm going to get you back into shape before you actually do something. No child of mine will be considered weaker than their mate. Bra can already defend herself, but we need to work on you, especially if who you're set on is _my_ student."

Trunks only crossed his arms in the same fashion, leaned against the hallway wall, and allowed himself to grasp the odd mix of his father's strange parenting and his own conscience as the morning sun rose. "Fine," he finally said. "Just a month, but that's it. When time's up, I'm going to go for it whether or not you think we're ready. You understand, Father?"

"You have my word. Besides, I like you fighting for something for once. Just don't speak to me in that tone again, boy." With that, Vegeta left back to the room he shared with Bulma and a month had passed since that moment in the pool.

Trunks did become stronger in the past weeks, priding himself in his secret strength and speed he earned when he trained with his father. No one doubted he was a great fighter, but when the time came, no one would doubt him slacking in his training. He only had a single problem: the longer he waited to make his move, the more anxious he became for the moment they had alone. No matter how he pictured it, nothing seemed quite right.

He shook his head, remembering where he was at before he completely zoned out. Marron had been staring at the lit elevator numbers that slowly moving as she tapped her foot in inconsistent beats. "You good there, Marron?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she smiled faintly before staring back at the numbers. It shined a bright **12**. Trunks pulled the stop lever.

"How long have we been friends? You don't have to lie to me," he encouraged her.

"Trunks, we have to get to the party. Please," she said. He stopped her hand from pushing the red button back into its place.

"Look, I get that you think you're more of my best friend's fiance and sister's friend than you are mine, but I know when something's wrong with you," he told her. "I'm not going to force you to tell me, but better to vent it out now so you don't explode later."

"Trunks... the _food_ ," she pleaded with him. He didn't care though. He only gave her a second to collect herself. "Fine, you want to know?"

"I can handle it," he assured her. Marron bit her lip before throwing her head back, trying to figure out the proper words. There weren't any, and she felt the shame built inside of her. Trunks saw her struggling to come terms with her truth, put down the box of pizza and held a hand out to her. "It's alright. I won't judge you for anything you've done. You just look like you need to let something out," he said softly.

That time, she gave him an honest smile as her eyes began to water. Her lips shifted between frowns and grins before she finally took a deep breath. "Goten wants to have kids as soon as we get married. He's ready and wants to be in shape so he could keep up with them," she began. He smiled at the sentiment, but he saw her face only scrunch as she continued.

"Between the wedding plans and the clinic renovations, all he talks about is changing our guest room into a nursery. Sweet, right?" She settled down her bags and wiped her face. "I should feel so lucky that someone loves me as much as he does... but it only hurts more. I can't tell him, and what a shame is that! He's the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with, _have been_ spending my life with, but I can't tell him I can't do it. I can't have his kids with that weird hairdo and warm smile."

"Well, kids aren't for everyone, Marron. You don't have to feel guilty about that. It's your body and your life, and _you_ should decide how you want to live it," he supported his friend. She tried to keep a happy face at the sentiment—the same protective Trunks who told her to fight when they were nine because she told him she was going to be with Goten forever was now the same Trunks telling her this.

"You're sweet, and I appreciate that you kept your mom's progressive views," Marron thanked him. "But that's not the case. I want kids. I want a whole lot of them. I want them with Goten, and I want to raise them in that little humble mountain village with our families. It was my plan since before I knew what birth control was."

He laughed, "To be fair, I don't think you would need the knowledge for birth control if that's the case."

"See, if you kept that up, then you didn't need to copy off of me in calculus," her expression then became sullen again. "Trunks, if I tell you, then you can't tell Goten. I want to be the one to tell him because it affects us. Do I have your word?"

"Of course. But Marron, Goten is still my best friend—and like I told you when I gave you that black eye when we were kids, if he's going to get hurt, I can't promise to protect you," he said.

"I can respect that, Trunks. I promise this doesn't involve anything lecherous. It's just a hard subject to talk about," she began. "You see, that summer we fought and I left, I found out I was pregnant. Yes, you can breathe. It was Goten's. I couldn't force myself to move on from him anyway."

He sighed in relief, instantly regretting it. "I'm sorry. I guess my own nerves got the best of me... but isn't that a good thing? You didn't betray him or give him a reason to distrust you."

"But I _did_ ," Marron rebutted. He paused, staring at her and hoping for the best. "Trunks... I had an abortion. I went to one of the local clinics, and found out I was a month and a half along. I didn't know what to do. We weren't talking, and I didn't want to burden him with a baby neither of us were ready for. It wasn't right." She looked away before she continued, "But because of that, I can't have kids now that we're ready. I had a doctor's appointment last week, and it turns out my abortion was incomplete. There was leftover tissue that rot, and the damage became permanent because I didn't treat it sooner than I should've. I have to get my uterus removed when we get back if the medicine doesn't work during the trial. If that happens... I can't have kids, ever."

He felt guilty with the little response he was giving her. He didn't know what to say. Marron offered him a sympathetic look and that only made him feel worse. Marron brushed the hair from her face and tucked it behind her ears. In the reflection of the elevator door, she wiped her face from the smeared makeup and fanned her puffed cheeks with her hands.

"It's fine. I wouldn't know what to say either. It was nice to get that out," she said, picking up the bags again. Trunks pulled her into a hug before she could run the elevator again. They stood there for a moment before she pulled her away and thanked him once again.

"It isn't the end, you know. You can still have kids," he offered. "Adopting is still a great option that'll always be there. With you being a teacher and Goten being a veterinarian, it's practically every good home's picture perfect ideal. They don't have to be blood-related to be your family."

"You're sweet, but I have to make sure it's what Goten wants to. I wouldn't mind adopting kids, but I have to make sure he's on board—and I can't do that if I know he's fine with me doing what I did." She pushed the red lever in the hole it came from and they began to move again.

"You're a strong person, Marron," he told her and they stayed in silence until they reached the twenty-fifth floor.

When they entered, Marron left with Eighteen to lay out the food she brought. Krillin grabbed the boxes from him so he had the chance to look at Pan's new furnished place. When he found a large, framed photo of Piccolo, he could only smirk, feeling proud that she took his suggestion after all.

Pan had removed the excessive details that made her place feel flashy. She got rid of the glass chandelier and hung a suspended ring with the candles from Goten's proposal above the dining table. Every wall was decorated with a picture of her friends and family, and he was amazed at what a natural eye she had (but also the risk she took taking a photograph of his father during a mid-punch). She added bookshelves to empty walls and filled them with personal touches: her favorite vinyl records, trinkets from random trips her and Bra would take, a framed newspaper clipping from her fight with Wild Tiger, the World Champion belt from her grandfather, helmets from every Saiyaman and Chichi, decorative bowls and vases in her favorite color; and to his surprise, cleaned empty bottles from their first night here aligned behind a framed photograph of them sleeping. In their time apart, she had thought of him after all.

As he made his way to her couch, he greeted everyone who had made it back from their food run and saw that her coffee table had practically been supported by all of Gohan's written works. Videl made her way to him to hand him a glass of soda.

"Pan told me it was _your_ idea to put the gigantic picture of Piccolo up," she laughed. "Can't say I'm too surprised she actually did it. She's her father's daughter, after all."

"Thank you," he said, taking the cold glass. The older woman sat beside him as he heard Marron opening the door for more returned guests. "All of the pictures she took are amazing though. I'm not an art critic or anything, but she has a really good eye for great moments."

Gohan interjected proudly as he walked towards his wife and his friend. "I showed one of her pictures to a photographer friend of mine, and he said that she has a unique perspective. There's an eye for detail, and she knows how to execute the perfect balance while including emotion in every photo."

"Every photo? I thought you said you only showed him _one_ ," Videl said, causing her husband to blush.

"Did I say one picture? No, no, babe! I meant one _collection_ ," Gohan rubbed the back of his head and continued to talk about his daughter in pride. Trunks only nodded in agreement, grinning slightly.

* * *

 **A/N** : Do not fear! This is _part one_ of this update! Things are going to be finally happening, and well, I'm editing and making sure it's the direction I want to go. The next chapter is actually the second half of this chapter but I decided to cut it off here because, well, I actually like this part independently.

It's about time Goten realizes the strangeness of Bra being his best man is, and yes, it's going to affect their summer. I haven't introduced Uub yet because there's two arcs I really like for him, and deciding one is so hard that I'm at the brink of just trying to figure out a way to put them together. I so wanted Vegeta to give fatherly advice, but in his own way. Writing Pan/Bra was my favorite thing of this, hands down. Also, Marron's arc intro was nice for me for various personal reasons but more importantly, I just wanted to give her something messy and complicated that isn't related to a love triangle. (Love triangles suck, and if you ever find yourself in one, just choose yourself! That's who deserves you the most.)

 **Guest relating to Pan/Uub being more realistic** : Just don't read/continue this story because I gurantee you will not like it. It's just going to go downhill from here for you, and you deserve to have a nice day—though, I do have a lot of upcoming brotp moments for Pan and Uub so if you want to stick around for that, then enjoy!

 **LVR4Trunks-n-Vegeta** : Hi, welcome! I hope you've been enjoying everything so far. Thanks for your review and I promise Bra won't hurt for long. I honestly dislike myself for making her cry so much so far, but I have a lot of badass moments planned for her.

 **PenguinsHockey14** : Hi! Your review just reminded me so much on how I wanted Vegeta to be the meddling parent in this story. A lot of Trunks/Pan's personality traits in this were inspired by him truthfully. I think it's only fit that he's the only one who can push their buttons and just tell them (in his own way) to just be together and rationalize everyone's logic when they're skeptical of Trunks/Pan. (Also yes, "Consequences of Pursing Pan" is the title of a list I made when I was writing the second/next update!) Thank you for reading.

 **trunkspanlover89** : Hi again! I always look forward to reviews, thank you for taking the time to write them out. I appreciate them so much, and I hope you really do continue to like this story. I was actually having this strange debate while I was eating sushi the other day and was like, _Did I just really change the rating just so I could say the word penis?_ Then I decided that I should just go for it. So yes, plenty of lemons later on. I have this special Trunks only one that's been dancing around my head for the past week but I'm just waiting for the chapter to execute it. Thank you again for writing your review, and I hope you continue to read this story!

 **Charismatic Beauty** : I totally respect where you're coming from! I used to dislike Marron a lot to be honest, but I think my biggest problem was how people wrote her. I'm a huge believer of there's no such things as bad characters, just undeveloped arcs and mean writers so for this story, I wanted to nod off to her and—well, that's neither here or there. Anyway, I promise Bra will get closure and there will be plenty more Bra/Goten moments down the road. I actually kept your review in mind when I was writing this one!

 **Nice Guest** : Thank you so much! I hope the story continues to be enjoyable.

Well until next time, which will be soooooooon.


	6. Part I - Chapter 6

**A/N** : I told you guys soooooooon! It's now four in the morning as I post this, and all I could think about is doughnuts. The past part is completely inspired with how I'm feeling in my apartment right now. Next update will be the first dragon ball hunt!

 **Disclaimer** : Again, I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything related to the franchise. (Would be really tight though, I'm just saying.)

\- _**CHAPTER 6**_ -

Pan flew around effortlessly. She knew how to move through the air before she could even walk. She twirled her body in circles, randomly did mid-air flips, and descended to just shoot up straight again. The fighter flying behind her only grimaced a look as she pretended to run out of ki and fall again.

Pan materialized on top of his back, holding onto the white fabric of his weighted clothing. "Grandpa Piccolo, what would you wish for?" she asked innocently. He felt his heart rate go up, feeling her presence behind him. Though helping to raise Pan made him more alert to his surroundings, she still always managed to attack him in surprise.

The other week, for example—she fell onto the Lookout with diminishing ki and he had flew there as quickly as he could to make sure she was alright. Gohan and Goku had insisted that it was her simply training with Vegeta, but then again, he found the Sons too lenient when it came with children and fighting (except for Chichi, of course, who had a sense of mind). When he made it to the Lookout, he found Dende walking away from the girl and began to worry as she didn't move. Then when he made his way to her, she flashed a bright light in his eyes. The following week, she would randomly pop out of the sky to take his picture. Though, when he found an enormous print of him meditating at the Lookout, he was not at all surprised.

He was, in fact, her favorite grandparent after all. It was only _fit_ his photograph be the largest out of her collection.

"Grandpa! Hello? You there?" she laughed, looking down at him. Thankfully, Bulma gave her capsules to store the treats they gotten on this short trip. Otherwise, she swore Piccolo would've had a heart attack at her flying being so reckless. "Did you hear me? What would you wish for?"

"I'm sorry, Pan. I was trying to look for you down below. You have to be more careful," he said in his usual monotone. She only graced him with another warm smile. "But to answer your question, I'm not sure what I would wish for. At this point of my life, there's not much else I want."

"Grandpa Goku said you wanted world domination once. You wouldn't like that?" she joked. A flush of rose colored his emerald skin.

He then retreated with an honest grin. "I don't think so, kid. Your dad and you already gave me more than I even bothered considering. You don't have a wish?" he asked.

"Not really," she shrugged. "Gramps gave me my new home already. Dad gets to choose his teaching days so mom sees him more often. Grandpa Goku and Grandma are alive and well. You're still checking up on me even though I'm stronger now. Goten's getting married to one of my best friends, and right now we're having a party. It doesn't get much better than that, does it? A wish feels a bit selfish."

"I like the way you think," he said before they landed into West City. They walked out of the familiar alley between the Italian restaurant and record shop across the street, and followed the red carpet coming out of her building. When they got into an elevator, they heard a voice shout to halt.

Pan cocked her head to the side and laughed, "You have _amazing_ timing."

"Right?" Bra smiled, directing her annoyed father inside the elevator. "Papa and I went to the grocery store and all they did was stare at how much we bought! Then I told them it was my birthday and they gave me a free cupcake from their bakery. Cool, huh?"

She opened up her mouth to comment on her teacher's casual attire. He was wearing a pink shirt with yellow slacks. However, a simple glare only made her stand straight. When they reached the final floor, she only heard her grandfather's laugh. When she opened her door, she saw half of Krillin's mustache gone.

"Are you two still playing around?!" she snarled, causing the three behind her to take a step back. The two older gentlemen only fearfully faced the door. They had broken the oven with their antics earlier. Krillin tried to offer a smile as Goku blinked, being reminded of Chichi when she raised her voice at him.

"Uh, sorry, Pan! You know us adults. We're just trying to relive our youth as much as we can," the balding man said. She only shook her head and sighed.

"Well, stop for a moment... at least. I brought food," she said, taking her capsule out of her pocket. She flew towards the empty space near the dinner table and threw the small storage space. When it exploded, a warm buffet table neatly emerged out. She explained the dishes to them: gyros wrapped in pita bread from her favorite family-operated street vendor, gorditas from this American town she visted in California with Bra, beautiful cakes she picked up in France, something called bánh xèo she got from Vietnam, and other delectables that both interested her guests and filled the room with intoxicating aromas.

When Chichi and Bulma arrived a few minutes later, they only sighed in relief as they saw the area filled with food. They had been afraid their cooking efforts would not be enough to feed their hungry families. As people talked and laughed over the dishes they tried and the photographs they looked, the two inseparable girls found themselves sitting on the stairs and passing a bottle of whiskey and a fruit bowl between each other.

"This is the grossest mix we ever thought of," Pan laughed, throwing a kiwi in her mouth and taking a swig from the bottle. Though the fruit was sweet and tarte, the liquid only burned her throat and robbed her tongue of the taste. Bra did the same with a piece of banana.

"Nonsense! We're going to be eating _worse_ this summer," the younger of two encouraged as she winced that the peculiar taste. "I say we be smart and learn how to endure it now. Think of it as training for your stomach and liver."

"Whatever you say... but there's a bag of chips and pretzels in my pantry if you would like not to throw up though," the older girl suggested.

Bra got up and wiped her mouth. "Oh, thank Dende," she muttered before flying to the kitchen. Pan settled the bottle on the step above them next to the fruit. When she heard a noise of a plastic bag, she turned to greet her friend-only, it wasn't her.

"You know I've been sandwiched between your mom and dad since I got here? I think they hate the fact that they don't have a kid to baby around. Your mom was about to feed me when I got up," he said, settling in the empty space below her, balling up an empty bag of cookies she knew he always kept under his suits.

"Oh, the Prince doesn't want to be hand fed?" she smiled, passing him the fruit bowl. Trunks rolled his eyes before graciously accepting the bowl of food of any kind. His stomach growled loudly. He hadn't even got a chance to touch the pizza he carried inside.

"My mom recruited Gohan for some project while we're away and it was something about energy engineering? I'm not sure," he sighed, popping a strawberry in his mouth. "I wasn't necessarily paying attention. I was distracted by that huge picture of Piccolo. Beautiful, isn't he?" Trunks smirked.

Pan tapped him with her foot, encouraging him to stop. "Don't be mean because you're jealous," she replied, settling her legs on the step behind him. He fell back, laying against her calves.

"Well, I guess you did yourself a favor. Can you imagine all the dates you bring home seeing a huge picture of me?" he snorted. She was about to kick him if Bra didn't return with more snacks when she did.

"Finally you two aren't avoiding each other!" the younger Brief smiled, causing the other two to blush. Once they saw each other, neither of them had even took a second to think about how awkward they assumed being in the same space would be—nonetheless, what they would even say to each other. They simply returned back to their casual ease. As Bra settled down in her original seat, she noted they weren't comfortable anymore, which was a very good thing.

Before she could touch the glass bottle of the burning liquor, she heard a very snappy, "BRA!" from across the room. Her father had been been standing awkwardly as he held a camera. It was an outrageous sight, but she went along with it anyway.

"Excuse me," she said, making her way to the old man. He handed her the small device as she took a picture of the both of them. She didn't even question why, but respected when he asked her if she was hungry. Maybe he was thinking the same thing she was.

As she finally felt her cheeks cool down, Pan wiggled her leg loose underneath Trunks and took a deep breath, "Want to sit on the roof? It'll, uh, give us time to catch up away from the party."

"Sure," he said, allowing her to get up. He glanced at the crowd past the stairs—they wouldn't be missed, neither would the bottle of whiskey. They walked upstairs to Pan's room before heading out the window. He was going to comment on the strange mix of non-fighting clothes, photography equipment, and pile of cut-out pictures, but then decided not to. Pan pushed the glass and jumped out, levitating away just enough to give him some room. He then followed her to the steep stone roof that only felt flat because of how large the building was. They laid beside each other, watching the sky change colors and passing the same drink like they had once done when they first became friends.

The two caught up with the past month's events—him signing the company back to his mother and thinking about moving in a new field; her making arrangements for her parents to watch her place and checking up on her grandfather so he'd stop smoking his cigars. They talked about what hunting the dragon balls would be like, and how unsatisfying it was to stay in once place for too long.

"And I thought you liked being in that office all the time. Who knew?" she joked, handing him the glass bottle.

"You make it seem like all I do is work," he sighed, taking a swig. The sky was getting darker now. The soft pinks were turning into an indigo.

"You don't?" she remarked. When the glass was empty, he threw it in the air as far as possible and she threw a ki blast at it, causing it to shatter and incinerate into a million pieces. "Don't litter. It's bad for the environment."

"And making your own fireworks is supposed to be any better?" he snorted. She nudged him with her shoulder. They watched as the clouds shifted until it was nothing but blue. The city lights never allowed a lot of stars to peek through, no matter how high above they were. As the moon slowly crossed the sky, Pan turned to Trunks before looking up again.

"I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to start this, but I doubt you know either, so I'm just going to say it. You can interject at any time or, _I don't know_ , don't. Whatever you feel like, got it?" He watched as she continued to talk, barely blinking as her eyes trailed around the vast space in front of them. "So for the past month— _and again, I'm sorry_ —but during training, I couldn't concentrate. I mean it. I got my ass handed to me and was too slow to even make a proper hit. It was embarrassing, watching that troll tower over me and laughing about it. It was like, he knew my mind was elsewhere and just kept hitting me to focus. There was a moment where I was lying there, practically dead, and he was just kicking me without an effort. I was so angry that I couldn't do anything about it because—well, could I blame him? I would've done the same thing."

He followed as she sat up with an arm across her knee. He wanted to mutter sorry, but found that he couldn't. Her pride had been wounded, and she needed to accept it in order to move past it.

"I'm not resentful because, you know, my Instant Transmission worked. Within the week I learned it, I almost mastered it by myself. That was a hell of a feat, considering how long it took my Grandpa. It made me train harder. Push myself, get better, and push myself some more. I _loved_ it," she smirked to herself. A small curve came upon his lips. He liked how passionate she was. Pan moved her hair to her shoulder and looked back at him, shaking her head slightly and laughing. "But do you want to know the most _frustrating_ thing about my training in the past month?"

"What?" he didn't bother to hesitate. Whatever she said, he would take it.

"I _always_ found my way back to you, even if you were the last place I wanted to go. It wasn't that I couldn't concentrate on my training or do the perfect combination of moves—it was just _you_. I couldn't focus on anything else because you were just stuck in my head. Every time I tried to search for somebody else's ki and thought I found it, I only came back to you. Ridiculous, right?" she said.

He blushed slightly before coughing. "I don't know... it doesn't sound ridiculous to me. I get it," he said quietly. He raised his knees to his chest, and stared at the tips of his boots. "We had a moment that night, being close like that. It's— _look_ , I just get it, alright?"

"Oh, so you _were_ aware of dunking my head on purpose?" she squinted, furrowing her eyebrows together. He only became more red.

"To be fair, _you_ were the one who showed me a very personal tattoo earlier in that day. I was just getting you back," he defended, and then he saw the flush of pink across her face. "OH! So _you_ did that on purpose too, huh? Geez, Pan. I expected more out of you."

She pushed him slightly. "You're supposed to be the bigger person! I showed you a tattoo you were already aware of. How was I—"

"— _Aware_ of?" he chimed, pushing his tongue to the bottom part of his mouth whilst grinning. "Full of secrets, are we now? You told Bra to show me your tattoo on purpose?" Pan was not amused.

"So? You tell girls they're too drunk to justify them kissing you? Even though I firmly remember you kissing back!" she snapped, feeling embarrassed at her choice of words. She wasn't used to spouting out things like this. She wanted to very much use her Instant Transmission once the words left her lips, but it wouldn't help. She'd just come back here. She forced herself to stand her ground.

"You're mad about that?! You're the one who left without even saying goodbye to anybody!" he argued back. He opened his mouth to speak again but it had collided with her fist. Before he knew it, they were above the city, yelling at each other—which was probably good for the city, considering how loud they were. "WHAT WAS WHAT FOR?!" he barked.

"YOU BEING A JERK!" Pan didn't hesitate to return the same tone. Any other person she would've shown restraint, but he just always found his way to get under her skin. "UGH! Don't you think that the reason why I skipped out that morning was because _you_ made me feel embarrassed? How pathetic is that! I couldn't even face you because I felt so _rejected_. You made me feel so small that I took a year away from you because I couldn't stand it!"

"So? Your point?!" he snarled. "What? You just run away when things get awkward?! How do you think I felt!" he shouted. She bit her lip, staring at him. Even with their distance, he still felt her eyes on him. "You kissed me randomly one night and before we could talk about it, you just leave for a year without a word to anybody! We couldn't find you, or even sense you because you wanted to hide like a coward. How was I supposed to react, Pan! Tell me! You were one of my best friends, and I didn't know what to do. Then the only person I could talk to about it just left, and came back like it never even happened. So what did you expect? I just followed _your_ lead!"

"Follow _my_ lead? You just dismissed me like I was nothing! I was doing what you wanted. Then what? I find out _now_ you want to kiss me? Why do you think I was trying to avoid you this whole month! It's either you want me or you don't. You can't just change your mind because—because that's not fair! I _like_ you, and I don't know how to deal with that," she crossed her arms, suddenly feeling too exposed. She didn't like the feeling of vulnerability at all. It made her feel weak, like she was the helpless little girl in a family of strong fighters. She spent her whole life working on her strength, and never did she think that she would feel as defeated as in this moment.

"Don't you think I like you too?! Has that ever even crossed your mind?" Trunks yelled to her. "You don't think I'm frustrated by this? To like _you_ , of all people! Not only are you my friend's daughter, I'm nearly twice your age! What if we do this and it doesn't work? How awkward is that between our families? Do we still talk? Am I still your friend? Or do we just..." he stopped himself, remembering how angry he was the summer she left. She was his honest friend, one that he was able to talk to so easily and genuinely. He told her things, _personal_ things that he wasn't able to share with anybody else. Then, she just _left_ for over a year with no contact. He didn't know how to reach her and she didn't bother calling. He felt abandoned, a feeling she _knew_ he resented.

"Do we just _what_ , Trunks? You think I'm just going to leave you if we don't work out?" She admitted she regretted what she said, feeling the irony of the statement. "Well, I'm not," she corrected. "But you have to acknowledge that this is just as hard and confusing for me too. You're not the only one standing here wondering why this can't be easy. I just want to kiss you and be normal!" She pressed her fingers against her temples before throwing them off and holding onto her hips.

Trunks pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the headache coming from this conversation and the whiskey they drank earlier.

"You really still want to kiss me after _all_ this?" he said in disbelief.

"Well, not _now_ because we're arguing and I'm a little mad at you, but someday! Why not!" she snapped, throwing around her flimsy arms. He never understood why Pan needed to animated her arms when she made a point, but it _just_ —

Trunks snorted again before he began to grin—even after yelling each other, fighting with one another, he still found himself wanting to laugh with her. Pan tried to keep a straight face, but then found herself wiping her eyes for giggling profusely. They stayed there for a moment, suspended in the incoming clouds just wondering how in Dende's name were they enjoying themselves at a time like this. It was ridiculous.

"Kami. We suck at this, don't we?" he flew closer to her and Pan stretched, feeling that this emotional strain was equivalent to a long workout.

"You think? ' _Oh I like you!_ ' and ' _What do you mean? I like you too!_ ' Like geez, get over yourselves," she sighed, throwing her hands behind her head. "It's not that hard. You just kiss already and figure it out later like normal people."

Trunks perked up, cocking at his head at the the simple suggestion. He faced her and asked, "Well, why don't we?"

"You're kidding, right? After you went on a five minute rant about what if it doesn't work out?" She raised an eyebrow and saw him roll his eyes, stopping herself from smiling at the gesture. Pan came to the conclusion that boys, regardless of whatever age they are, were dense.

Trunks scoffed throwing his hands to his hips, "Look, you want to kiss me or not? I'm only offering this once. We do this and get it over with. If there's something there, we'll figure it out later."

"Fine, fine," she sighed. Pan closed her eyes and waited for him, standing still. When he didn't make a move, she opened a single eye. "Well, come on now. I don't have all day. I _am_ hosting a party."

"How _romantic_ ," he sneered sarcastically—but still, he made his way to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders as she held onto his arms, encouraging him to come closer and to hold her face. He leaned down, closing his eyes slightly and touching their foreheads. He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, wiping off any substance off. He wanted to taste her purely.

Pan opened her eyes just enough to watch him be an inch away from her face. As his thumb touched her jaw, she moaned a slight _mmmm_ , imagining the ghost of his touch. He took it as a sign to close the space between him and her.

What he didn't know was that when their noses touched, her eyes shot open. Pan then quickly pushed him off and dunked his head, reminiscent of what he had done to her a month ago. She did not regret it one bit.

"Now we're even!" she shouted below her. She swiftly flew back to the roof without a care, and what _she_ didn't know was that he shot right back up to the sky and aimed towards her.

The two crashed on the stone roof once again but softly as he held her waist, making sure she didn't break her building. When he had her back against the rock and her arms pinned up above her, he only smirked.

"What? You didn't think you were the only one training hard, did you?" he said, pushing his body against hers.

Pan let out a small gasp, feeling his belt against her stomach. She looked up at the man in front of her, but she didn't fight back this time. She leaned back her head, and a crooked grin came upon her mouth.

"Alright, fine. You have me cornered, Trunks Brief. What are you going to do about it?" Her eyes trailed to his tangerine lips as he answered her question with the only way he could.

She found him letting go of her wrists and gripping her fingers as he pressed against her lips with his. The more he tasted her, the tighter he held onto her hands. He bit onto her swollen bottom lip and pulled it with his teeth before placing a small peck on her forehead. He then rolled off and crashed beside her, breathing heavily as he turned his head to her.

"How about that?" he asked. He felt himself grinning as he heard her short laugh.

"I think I can do you one better," she said before crawling on top of him.

"Oh, yeah? Prove it." Pan straddled his hips, yanking his shirt slightly downwards. She crashed her lips against his, using her tongue to gain entry into his mouth. She tasted like the whiskey from earlier, but this time he didn't mind it.

He liked the burning in his throat—it was a bittersweet reminder of what this moment was. She tasted like cinnamon, and had him in a haze the longer he collided his lips on the rim of hers. This was going to be complicated, and messy, and have him contemplating his choices at two in the morning. He would be happy enough to dance, sad enough to sleep on a bar, angry enough to smash glasses, unable to walk a straight line and be unable to control himself all at once. He could've stopped it after a single taste, but something was urging not to—that if he didn't keep going, he would never get this taste again.

Their first kiss was a joke. Their second was almost nothing. But _this_ —this was the beginning of a long trip down of something unknown.

Pan felt his hands gripping her thighs, and he felt her smiling against his cheek the harder he gripped her. When his hands moved to the back pockets of her jeans, she lifted her head and looked down at him. A surprised look came upon his face, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking as he slid his hands into her pockets and gripped her tightly. She only laughed into the crook of his neck before returning her head back.

"You're such a doofus," she sighed. Pan kissed his jaw, being a little rough at where she punched him.

"You want to be a little careful there?" he joked, meeting her lips again. "Not that I mind, of course."

She looked down at her hand that had been holding onto his shirt, feeling a little embarrassed at how excited she gotten. "You can afford new shirts, right?" she asked, half-joking and also half-serious. She was not about to spent the money the Briefs did on a single article of clothing, especially when they wore entire outfits with the Capsule Corp. logo for free. "I'll totally let you have the Satan shirt if I ruin this one," she offered with a cocky smirk. Trunks didn't care. He just wanted to feel her lips again.

Pan shrugged. When he played with her hair instead of answer back, she lowered head to his neck, making a trail with her tongue and nibbling what was coated. She finally let go of his shirt, and used a single finger to pull on the collar. There, she bit him before rolling off. The two lied there in a murmur of laughs, throwing energy blasts into the sky and pretending they were shooting stars. They felt like gods sitting so high above the city.

* * *

\- _INSIDE THE PARTY_ -

Bra blushed as her father crushed the cup in his hand effortlessly. His eyes shot open, like he was having some psychic vision—twitching a bit, even.

"Papa, are you alright?" she asked, but he only coughed to retrieve his composure. Vegeta felt a strange wave of reckless energy coming from the roof. It wasn't hard to distinguish one as the girl's and the other as the boy's. When fighters sparred, they emitted a strange pattern of energy—it was a mix of uneasy vibrations as the loser would lose energy quickly and the victor would gain random bursts. These vibrations could be felt if you paid attention enough, and Vegeta always had keen senses.

However, he didn't think the two were necessarily fighting with the energy they gave off. The boy was going through with his promise, and he only could hope it was the right choice. Frankly, he was a bit embarrassed they were doing _that_ during a party.

"Yes, I'm fine. Can you get me a new cup, Bra?" he asked, resuming back to his plate of food. He glanced up, looked for any suspicious stares, and then continued eating. He would focus on his plate instead.

Bra walked to the kitchen where the refreshments were held. There was a tray full of ice, but she decided to pick the bag in the freezer. She didn't like touching ice after people had eaten and came back for another drink. She quickly grabbed a cup and filled it before closing the ice chest's door. She jumped back clutching the glass as she saw the person who had been standing so close to her without much of a thought. She held a hand to her racing heart, unused to the sensation as of late.

"Did I scare you? I apologize. I just didn't want to touch the same ice after everyone's been eating," he said in a soft tone. She only glared at him.

"You couldn't just wait somewhere else like a normal person? Geez," she sighed, feeling her heart rate return to normal. She then stepped back and allowed him space to walk. He only felt her blue eyes as he dug his cup in the bag, and wanted nothing more than to _not_ be in her attention. "So, it's Uub, right?" she asked, unfortunately.

"Yeah," he nodded, shifting his eyes to the side towards her. "It's Bra, isn't it? I feel like we've, uh, done this introduction thing already at a few other gatherings."

He shut the freezer door and found her folding her arms and holding her filled glass to her chin. He recognized _that_ as a look she inherited from her brilliant mother, the one that scientists got when they were observing something and wanted to test their theories out immediately. He had seen the look a few times on both women at parties as they talked with their friends, but he had never been so close to witness it himself. His comment had been genuine, and he just wanted her to hurry and get her drink without trouble.

"I get it," she said slyly, nodding her head and shrugging ever-so-casually. "You're more of Pan's friend then you are mine. No hard feelings. We don't really talk, do we?"

"Not that I recall," he answered without hesitation. He tried to smile, but truthfully, he felt awkward. In all the special occasions he had been invited to over the years, he only talked to the same five people: Goku, Pan, Piccolo, Buu, and, occasionally, Trunks. Everyone had said their hello's to him, but no one ever really made conversation with him. He knew how they felt when Goku left to train him without much of a thought of their feelings. Though most said they were used to it, he detected some resentment in their tones when they talked to his master. He had been nothing but surprised when Goten invited him on the summer trip, only agreeing because at least he was close with Pan and friends with Trunks.

Bra only squinted her eyes, still trying to figure him out. As long as they known each other, Uub was one to keep to himself. He didn't bother initiating conversations, was just happy to be invited, and was more or less, for a lack of better words, seemed to bejust _there_. Her father once told her he was the reincarnation of their most evil foe, and Pan had told her countless stories of their shenanigans while training at Korin's together. In her mind, she didn't see how the Uub they talked about was the same Uub standing in front of her right now. Something about the whole situation got under her skin.

As a scientist, she liked definite answers. Everything happens for a reason, and people are the way they are by no accident. For the most part, she understood the majority of her surroundings—like how sugar made her coffee sweet, flowers grew when you gave them sunshine and water, and that everyone around her had a reason to be there. Uub had no reason. Uub was not a definite answer—or at least, not yet.

"Hey, Papaya Boy!" a friendly voice ringed out from the kitchen's doorway. The two clueless minglers turned, seeing their energetic friend and Trunks. Uub smiled in relief, seeing somebody he talked to regularly. He walked to Pan without much of a gesture to Bra, who rolled her eyes and followed behind.

"Papaya Boy?" Trunks questioned, looking at the two friends as they greeted each other with a hug.

"Yeah, it's a long story," Uub interjected, greeting the lavender-haired man with a handshake.

"No, it's not!" Pan laughed, happily to share the memory. "It's a _good_ story and my favorite," she encouraged. She then proceeded to tell Trunks how Uub was named Papaya Boy. After the world tournament where they met and after gaining the prize money her grandfathers promised, Uub returned to his village and spent half the earnings to cultivate a small farm. It had been brilliant, gave some people honest work, and initiated growth in their once dry land. However, with the leftover money he used to rebuild some homes, Uub had a special request for his: six papaya trees in his backyard. "He takes care of all the stray dogs that stop by in his village. Apparently, papayas are good treats for them!"

"Whoa, really? That's amazing," Trunks commented. The dark-skinned man blushed.

"Pan, you're making it seem like I'm saving the world," Uub laughed, scratching his head. It was a gesture he definitely learned from Goku. "It's no big deal, really. The dogs keep the children happy, and happy kids mean happy parents. Plus, it's my favorite fruit anyway. I'm not completely selfless."

Pan scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. "You're being too humble. You're one of the greatest guys I know," she remarked. "I mean, you practically saved me every time Korin wanted to smack me with his staff. Are you enjoying yourself here? Have you ate? I promise everything I brought doesn't have pork."

He only grinned again. "Yeah, thank you. Everything was delicious. You have a nice place too, by the way. Have you been able to talk to Mahaad and Mana? They're here and I bet they'd love to catch up with you before we leave tomorrow."

"Of course. Did you leave the bag of your things in the guest room?" she asked. Uub nodded and the two friends had walked away to the excited teenagers talking among themselves on the other side of the room. Bra only furrowed her eyebrows, still not understanding the man who left. Her eye then caught the bruise on her brother's jaw and her curiosity shifted from one enigma to the next.

"Did you get into a fist fight or something?" she questioned, causing the older Brief to swiftly turn back to her. Bra then smacked her lips, handing him the cup of ice. "Who am I kidding? You said something wrong and she socked you in the face, didn't she?" His sister didn't need to explain who the _she_ was.

Trunks instinctively touched his collar bone, the only part of his skin that had been bitten by Pan's feistiness. They hadn't gone further than the casual making out, but he had been fine with it. He didn't want to rush her, or whatever they wordlessly agreed upon on the roof before they came back down. This only caused Bra to walked towards him and move the cup to his jaw, squinting her eyes suspiciously.

"Do I even need to ask?" she cocked her head, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively to him. He felt his face become hot at the idea of his little sister asking him a question like that. He wasn't surprised, but he wasn't open to such a subject as his mother and sister were.

"I would rather you not," he replied, hoping his face would be free of the pink streaks. This only made his sister smile brighter, punching him in the shoulder.

"Way to go, big brother!" She hugged him, excited for the two who had been moping around her lab for the past month. She then learned in close to his ear so he _only_ heard her. "But if you hurt her, I'll kick your ass myself," she said swiftly. She then let go of her brother and gave him a warm smile— _one that he would've argued to be creepy like their father's_ —but a smile, nonetheless. Bra then took the glass from his hand and made way back to Vegeta who didn't mind melted ice.

* * *

\- _LATER_ -

Pan woke up to a strange—well, _feeling_. She searched under her pillow for her phone, using the dimmed-lit screen to make sure everyone was still here. The six adventurers had all decided to sleep at her place before they left in the morning.

Uub was on asleep on her recliner as Marron and Goten took her couch. She was on the floor between Bra and Trunks—even Bra's small robot was rested upon her legs. Their bags were arranged by the door as were the capsules they were taking aligned on the coffee table. She pressed the power button on her phone and allowed her eyes to adjust to the moonlight.

It was something in the air—something you could feel, but not see. She wondered if any of her friends felt it too, or at least, she hoped one of her grandfathers would transport here to check up on her. _Maybe you're just not used to this place yet_ , she thought. She looked down and saw her hands gripping onto the sheet below her.

 _Then why are you so scared_ _?_

She took a deep breath and went back under the sheets, holding the edge against the bridge of nose. Her eyes scanned the vast room and the shadows created by the objects in her home. Some of the arranged decorations made bodily silhouettes, but she didn't fear them. She rationalized it.

If something moved, it was probably her shaking or it was the wind outside or the running AC in her penthouse. If her heart was racing, it was because she woke up like that. If something was caught in her throat, then she probably should've done a better job at brushing her teeth before she went to bed.

There was nothing for her to fear, nothing for her to feel worrisome about. If something were to happen, she could protect herself and her friends—she had trained her _whole_ life to do so. She was overreacting. These were _nerves_ for tomorrow. She was spending a summer with her best friends, and a guy she could kiss on occasion. That required some kind of anxiety, traveling to the unknown. She was _fine_.

A rush of panic went through her as she felt something moving between her legs. She shot up and whispered, "Oh... it's just Giru."

The metal round robot perked up, hearing its name. " _Giru, Giru_. Pan not sleep?" it asked in its strange quieted tone. Unlike most robots the Brief women created, Giru was a bit more, well, _personalized_. He had tones in his voice, and was able to register emotions. He was part-dragon-radar, and another part-capsule-slot. However, he was overall, as Goten would say, their little buddy. Pan didn't think much of the metal ball as it feared her most of the time.

"It's alright," she shushed quietly, taking another glance of her living quarters. She then reached out her arms for the small robot to come towards her. She settled it beside her and Bra. "I'm not scared, and this isn't me protecting you, but I need you to be quiet," she directed it.

Giru only nodded, throwing the cover over itself. After another minute, she crawled back under and tried to go back to sleep. To say the least, her efforts sort of worked. She was tired, and all she needed to do was close her eyes, if she could.

Beside her, a raspy voice grumbled, opening a single eye. Trunks adjusted his head underneath his pillow and raised the arm he wasn't laying on to touch her cheek with his finger. "Excited for tomorrow?" he yawned into the pillow before turning his head back to her again.

Pan closed her eyes, cold at the touch but eased once she realized who the hand belonged to. She turned her body to face his, rubbing the hand that touched her face against the pillow between them. "Sorry, did I wake you?" she whispered softly. A faint smile curved from his lips before he rubbed his eyes.

"No, I heard Giru. Can't sleep?" he said in hushed tones. He intertwined their touching fingers and brought it close to his lips to kiss her knuckles. "Want to go sleep in your room or something?"

"Are you suggesting something that's going to wake up everybody else?" she asked.

He let out a faint laugh. "Yeah, let's go start a dance party in the kitchen," he yawned again, catching her rolling her eyes. He grinned at her, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. "No, I'm not in the mood for that. I just want to make sure you're comfortable. You usually sleep through anything."

"Well," she said, lifting her chin. "Do you mind if I sleep a little closer to you? I'm not scared or anything, but your big head can block most of the weird shadows."

"Charming," he quietly scoffed. Trunks lifted his arm and head up, waiting for her roll in. When she had her back against him, he threw the sheet over her shoulders. "Sleep well," he murmured, kissing the back of her head.

Pan waited for his breathing to slow down before she opened her eyes again. All she could see was the bottom of the couches and all the books aligned underneath her coffee table, which somehow was a better relief. As she heard him rhythmically inhaling and exhaling, she read all the embossed titles until she could rest again.

* * *

 **A/N** : And it's a wrap for this update weekend! I told you guys things were going to be happening! Well, sort of. I was really hesitant to make a big love confession and make them have super detailed sex and then make them be happily in love so fast because, well, that's just not realistic. (But what do I know? I've been writing fanfiction all weekend instead of going out on dates.) But good things take time—well, not too much but we'll get there.

To me, Pan and Trunks aren't spontaneous and relaxed people—it's nice to see them attempt to be, but Trunks hasn't ran a company for so long for being impulsive and Pan wouldn't be able to keep up with someone like Vegeta if all she did was attack without a strategy. I think that's why they can get to each other, because they recognized that part of themselves onto the other person. Though, I will admit, they do bring out this somewhat childish but very comfortable side with each other—where they can be a little crass, pull pranks on each other, and still be able to have serious talks. That's the ideal for this story, and hopefully that translates somewhere.

Also, sorry if this was a bit of a mess to read! I'm moving and my brother's moving out so it's been a lot to take in. I don't even know how my eyes are still working lol

 **Charismatic Beauty** : Hi! Welcome again. I hope you're still enjoying the story. Vegeta will definitely have another moment with these two when they get back, and I honestly can't wait. As for Marron, I'm contemplating a lot of roads for her, and unfortunately, none of it's going to be easy—but that should be the great part of stories, to have a conflict and resolved them in a creative way. Thanks for your review!

 **Kanassa** : Hello and thank you so much for your lovely commentary! Also, THANK YOU because the reason why I started writing this was because I was annoyed at the limited characterizations for both Pan and Trunks, and I just thought they needed something that didn't feel so limiting to either of them. Trunks's has way more manners and Pan is definitely way more intelligent than what people give them credit for. Also, speaking of Super, it was so hard to concentrate editing this chapter because all I could think about is Future/Mirai Trunks coming back and what they're planning to do with his story line. Luckily, the small cameo of baby Pan made me feel so much better. I hope you continue to read this story and enjoy it!

What's up next is our six hitting the road and looking for the dragon balls. Goten is noticing something... weird... between his niece and his best friend. Bra has mix feelings still, but she's found a distraction to keep her head straight. Uub is trying to settle into the gang, but _somebody_ is feeling a slight resentment with his presence. Marron is trying to find a way to tell the truth, but also how will everyone react finding strange pills? Lots of confusion with our cuties until next time!


	7. Part I - Chapter 7

**A/N** : Surviving this week/end in preparation of the new Super arc was so— _just_... I don't want to get into how much Pan-bashing I dodged, or how discouraging it was to continue writing this because of all the negativity. I refuse to let those bad thoughts be included in this note because this is a place where you can read a story and be happy in what you've chosen—and I very much would like to keep it that way.

Whether it's fanfiction or the actual tale, I think most people forget that these are simply _stories_. You can watch the anime, read the manga, or scroll through endless fics online—at the end of the day, these are all just stories from a writer to whoever's willing to look at their art. Granted, we run into things like "endgame" and "canon," but does it really matter? Somewhere out there, there's somebody who thinks differently and has another perspective they liked to share.

I personally respect and like the Mirai Trunks/Mai pairing because it's just another story from another author. I can't control that, and I choose to appreciate the effort being put into it rather than be negative and ruin someone else's experience. As a writer and a fan, I know how much it sucks when people shit all over the things you like. It's not cool, and we should remember how to be empathetic.

Despite this long rant though (that I am extremely apologetic for), what I can control is _my_ story and offer you guys an alternative plot. I'm actually really excited of what's to come because I found a lot of inspiration during my move and this whole week! So let's just get on with it because I'm ECSTATIC.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything related to the franchise.

\- _**CHAPTER 7**_ -

Marron sat on the wooden porch between her two friends, making funny faces to the pinhole in the lens. They had found themselves traveling to a desert town that Giru insisted was two-hundred-forty-six kilometers southwest near their first dragon ball. Despite the fact that they all could outfly any aircraft by Capsule Corp., the only flying they all (reluctantly) agreed to was by the older model plane Bulma lent to Goten. Being that they had woken up at five in the morning to leave anyway, no one argued of the rules: they were only permitted to move themselves around in the air if 1) they were in danger, 2) a person was given the adult equivalent of a time-out, and the more likely 3) if the plane broke down and they needed to adjust.

So far, they were only eight hours away from West City by yellow, large aircraft. Trunks and Goten took turns steering as the rest seemed to just doze off in their unbuckled seats. Marron, Uub, Pan, and Bra were woken up as the plane made a hard landing near a small, old western town. The four sleepy travelers had all crashed against each other with their carry-on backpacks on top.

Goten had suggested they pick up some groceries for camp since Trunks forgot the food storage capsule, with much protest that he didn't. Uub was forced inside the mom-and-pop shop because the boys decided that _they_ were cooking tonight since the girls were allegedly "lousy cooks." They even took Giru as their unofficial team member.

As they left, Pan and Marron took the chance to change from their pajamas to denim shorts and a clean shirt as Bra slid into a pulled-together outfit of a pleated skirt, a t-shirt with **BRA** printed across, a thin pink jacket, long socks, and matching pink boots. The three girls had then been sitting outside of the store, waiting for their male counterparts to come out.

Pan clicked the shutter button again, moving her face closer to Bra and giving off her brightest smile. When her friend insisted that it was finally enough, she shut off the small camera and slid it into her pocket. Pan scratched her nose before rising from the wood ground, causing the two girls to look up at her stiff face.

"Is there anything wrong?" Bra lingered, glancing at her friend. The older of two turned her head, glancing over her shoulder with furrowed brows. A loud grumble roared, loosing her expression into a confused grin.

"I guess I'm just hungry!" Pan laughed, rubbing the back of her head. The two other girls dropped into their seats.

Bra sat up, leaning her weight forward to cross her arms over her knees. She let out a sigh, "We _have_ been sitting here for a while. I kind of want a snack myself."

Pan turned around, holding her fists with a determination. "What do you guys think they're planning to make? Spaghetti? Buttersquash soup? Burgers? Hotdogs? Fish?" She continued listing every dish she knew in frustration as Bra noticed Marron sitting quietly.

"Still tired from the trip, M?" Bra asked as Pan was now naming different types of pasta and sauces. The blonde blushed, feeling caught for being in her thoughts.

Marron had still been thinking about _how_ to tell Goten of her truth, and felt guilty that she was still taking a while to do so. Her doctor's appointment was over a week ago and at most, only Trunks knew what was bugging her. Thankfully, that meant the Brief heir casually distracted the excited Goten when he would ask her what was wrong this morning. However, she was slightly dreading the moment she finally had alone with her maybe future husband (if he didn't hate her that is).

"Marron?" Bra asked again, and the blonde only apologized, saying she was just bored. The youngest of the three didn't believe it, but she decided to not nag her. Though her friendship with Marron pretty much hadn't changed in the past month, Bra knew she herself was putting some distance between her and her friend. Pan told her that's she was naturally guarded like that and not to worry, but it was becoming slightly harder to share things with Marron. She felt that she would overshare if she wasn't careful.

"GOSH!" The loud shout echoed the town and vibrated the dirt beneath their shoes. Pan apologized for the interruption, but the other two only appreciated it breaking the silence. "Stupid Trunks! How do you forget the capsule that has food?!" she muttered under her breath, kicking a small pebble into a stone bullet across the empty town. Truthfully, the raven-haired girl was more upset that Goten didn't allow her to go back for it, insisting that it pushed them to think on their feet. However, the trip was her uncle's gift so she decided to blame the only person she could (and who would also take the least offense).

"Stupid who?" snarled a low hoarse voice, holding three brown paper bags. The other two behind him only gave apologetic looks as the small robot hid behind the groceries it carried. Giru was not a fan of an angered Pan.

"What took you guys so long! I feel like—" She paused as her eyes trailed to the Indiana-Jones-esque brown hats on top of all their heads. "What's up with the fedoras?" she asked bluntly, pointing an unsturdy finger and causing the two girls sitting down to giggle into their hands.

"Wha—oh, this?" said a proud Trunks, looking up at his new head piece. "Looks cool, huh? The shop owner threw it in for free since we bought so much stuff! There's not a lot of business that passes through here, so I guess he was thankful. Why?"

She opened up her mouth to speak, ready with an arsenal of cowboy-related puns, but struggled at the words coming out. She didn't like the hat. She found it even more silly because he was already wearing a scarf around his neck and tight jeans. Yet, she only bit her tongue and crossed her arms, hoping a stern look said enough.

Uub added a small grin, "C'mon, you can't be too upset, Pan. The shop owner had to order new inventory for tomorrow. Imagine all the bills he doesn't have to worry about for a while. We basically helped this little town's economy in one purchase!"

Pan didn't break her stare, making him feel uneasy. Truthfully, she wanted to ask him if he wanted to meet her dawn and have a duel at gunpoint for kicks. However, her mouth was... trying to _compliment_ him.

"You look ni—" She stopped herself and turned to her friend instead. "I guess you're right," she finished before turning around completely, not making eye contact with anybody else. Uub shrugged at Trunks's glance. Then Pan began again, remembering what mattered to her most. "Should we start camp somewhere and then eat? Or should we just sit here and eat? Maybe there's a restaurant around here for us to get lunch? We should go look for the dragon ball with some snacks!"

Bra let out a snort as she rose from her seat. "Papa told me once that when he used to conquer planets, he would eat the inhabitants after every battle," she said, stretching her arms. The other five stared at her curiously before they looked at each other.

"And that has anything to do with right now... _how?_ " Marron asked, dusting her hands and taking a bag from Giru.

"Not much. I'm just saying that Pan would totally eat us without question if she was an alien warrior taking over our planet," Bra replied with an added chuckle. The quarter Saiyan thought about her theory for a second and then nodded in agreement, much to the horror of their other friends but in delight of her closest friend.

When they got back into the plane, they flew until they found solid ground instead of the sand that blew so easily. It was only twenty miles from the dragon ball according to Giru, but the final decision to stop was due to everyone's growing hunger as Pan once again started to list foods she would've liked to have.

Bra was the first one to emerge from the aircraft, running towards the empty space to inject the capsule. A single house appeared as the dust settled, gaining much praise from the travelers. Goten and Trunks had taken the initiative to cook with Giru as Bra watched television and Marron laid down after exiting the bathroom. After a light snack, Pan and Uub had decided to have a quick spar to work up their appetites.

Marron moved around pull-out murphy bed, trying to shake off her drowsiness. The medication she was taking for her infection made her lightheaded and caused her mood to be—in her best description with her extensive vocabulary— _okay_.

She wasn't excited for much, but she didn't get upset when Goten asked her to taste his soup with a spoon that had been lingering in boiled water. The noise from Bra's comments on blatant sexism on her reality show—nonetheless, the screaming and yelling coming from said show—didn't really bother her either. It was all muffled noise as if her ears were covered with pillows. However, she was also hyper-focused on the imperfections of the small house, catching little unsmoothed mistakes on the walls and wrinkles on the sleeves of her shirt. She was still _feeling_ okay at least, she guessed.

The pill she had been taking was a mix of estrogen and antibiotics from what she understood from the label. It fought any infectious diseases caused by the rotten tissue, but also pushed production on her hormones so she could "heal" faster.

 _Bleh_. _Healed_.

She didn't like the word used by her doctor. It made her feel like something that needed to be fixed, like she was some sort of broken toy. Her mind quickly drifted to the idea of her being the head of a jack-in-a-box as a young Goten kept turning the handle, waiting for something to happen until his arms cramped. Yet, she would never pop out.

As Trunks peeled potatoes at the table, his eyes shifted from his task to his friend who had been laying down and staring at the ceiling. He noticed her unusual quietness and stoic expression, but then remember she told him about the trial medication was taking.

He felt sympathetic, but also a bit mad how oblivious her fiance was. Granted, he knew Goten was excited to leave West City and have a chance to see his friends on a regular basis for a short period. Yet, at the same time, Trunks wanted to throw the potato peeler at his head and shout— _Hey! Something's going on with your future wife if you paid attention!_ —though, he respected that it wasn't his choice to make because it wasn't his truth to tell.

When he tried to focus on something else however, all that mercilessly troubled him was his embarrassing attempt of kissing Pan when unloading the plane. They had been playfully pushing and stealing the hat off and on the top of each other's heads when Bra exited and their other friends followed to settle in their campsite. With no one else around, he assumed it was a perfect opportunity to sneak a small peck. He was absolutely _wrong_.

He had her cornered against one of the back seats as her hand dangled the brown fedora away from him. He had found his way to her bare hips under her shirt and carefully as he could with two fingers, he slipped under her shorts and pulled on the waistband of her underwear. Surprised, she let out a girlish yelp and stared at him suspiciously.

"I am... _very_ confused about how I feel about that," she finally giggled. He himself was surprised at the soft sound coming from her mouth, but nonetheless, it intrigued him. Her hands found their way to his face, slapping him gently between her palms before moving his hair out of his face. His lilac strands only came back to block his view again.

"Maybe I should grow my hair back out," he joked, nodding his head back to be free of the odd length of his hair. He had missed last week's hair appointment and now the ends tickled the apple of his cheeks. "We could compare lengths!"

"Uh," she lingered, thinking of an inappropriate innuendo that involved him flashing her and asking to measure— _she stopped herself_. "Don't. I think it's kind of cute that you want to look like your grandpa. It's endearing."

He cocked a smirk. "Is that so? I never knew you felt that way," he said, a little too happy to have his ego stroked. "Fine, I'll ask Bra if she can give me a trim... just because you asked nicely," he winked. That time, she rolled her eyes.

She felt his hands still roaming her sides when she faced him again. It felt strangely nostalgic to be in a backseat like this—not that they had been like this before—but maybe, there was just the same ease at this time like a good memory. Time was untouched, the scent in the air was unique, and there was a youthfulness that would fade later. For now, she just really wanted to kiss him.

She tugged on his shirt and he learned that was _her_ way of asking without any real words. He leaned his head down to give into her small request when a small robot shouted, "PAN DYING! PAN DYING!"

Immediately, everyone came rushing back to the aircraft to catch them in their, um... _compromising position_. The two only blinked as four pairs of eyes looked at them suspiciously. Pan then—in her attempt of well-crafted improvisation—began to pretend to choke and cough as he took the hint and gave her a sloppy attempt of CPR. When she could breathe "properly again," she pushed off Trunks, thanked him for saving her, and then pushed him off again so it would look like they were bickering instead. Their four friends only glared at the small robot and scolded it about giving them false emergency alerts. The poor metal ball only sadly went to go pick up a grocery bag before flying back inside. (Trunks thankfully gave him a wrench that had been laying around, and told him to keep a secret.)

"Uh, Trunks?" Goten interrupted his thoughts. The lavender-haired friend only looked down to see his potato peeled into a hundred slithers around the cutting board.

"Oh! We, uh, could make our own potato chips!" he quickly said, plucking off another brown vegetable from the pile beside him.

"Whatever you say," Goten sighed, returning back to his pot. Though it was impossible because he _knew_ out of everyone in his entire life, his best friend since _birth_ would not even _consider_ —the idea was simply absurd.

Goten closed the lid and glanced back at his friend at the table. There was just no chance in Dende's lifetime that it wouldn't even _happen_. He was simply imagining things because he was hungry and being in the desert was hot. Hunger and heat exhaustion usually caused delusions. Trunks was not—just simply _would not_ —even think about fooling around with his beloved niece... scratch that, _the little girl he practically raised and would sneak out of school just to grab an ice cream cone_. She was practically still a child! And a tomboy. Pan liked fighting and wearing baggy jerseys, and he had a very distinct memory of her assuming all boys were partially toads.

It was all in his head. That was what he was going with.

"Did you forget something?" he asked.

"What?" Goten squinted.

Trunks laughed, "You look all dazed, man. I asked if you forgot something."

"Uh," he looked around the room and grabbed a random spice on the table. "I just needed some garlic salt. Sorry. I, um, forgot to balance the flavor in this steak. You know, some things just don't mix."

* * *

 _\- LATE LUNCH/EARLY DINNER -_

Bra stood up at the smell of rice cooking in a pot. She never understood why she found the smell so homely, but she guessed it was because it reminded her of going over to Pan's on some weekends. The kitchen at her own house had been so huge and equipped with plenty ventilation that she never really had the scent of hot meals roaming about halls and rooms. At Pan's house, she always smelled finished rice before Gohan (or one of the other frequent relatives) called the girls to eat. Smelling that indicated to her that the food was almost done.

The aqua-haired girl then made way outside, lifting her head up to see skywards. Her dad taught her once how to use her Saiyan senses to be more open to her surroundings, and it was a great tool to be more in touch in her line of work. If she concentrated hard enough, she saw the fight as clearly as she was beside it. Pan and Uub were basically just taunting each other at this point, which made her laugh. Though, she noticed one of them was holding back very much so.

"C'mon, Pan! You train with Vegeta every day only to come out weaker? You let him get to your head!" Uub chuckled as he wiped the corners of his mouth. She had got him a few times, but now she was running out of breath keeping up with him.

"Give a... girl a... break, will you?" she heaved, speeding up the pace of her words before she had to inhale again. She raised her arms back into her proper stance, shaking her head so her shoulders were free of her hair. "I've been a little distracted," she coughed before laughing faintly.

"This is _not_ going to end well," Bra murmured to herself, knowing this tactic very well. In the sparse times she asked Pan to train her so she wouldn't fall behind, the same move was used on her. _When will these boys learn to stop underestimating us_ , she thought.

"That's your excuse? I guess you're not the granddaughter of the strongest fighter in the universe, after all... but then again, you're also related to that poser world champion, and Goku did _leave_ you to train me for a while there," the fighter smirked. Pan gnashed her teeth at him, getting angry with his arrogant insults. Uub only continue to grin his cheeky smile. This had been what their sparring matches at Korin's been like, and he had missed it very much.

Pan cocked her head sideways, stretching her neck before a small curve twitched on her lips. He couldn't see it. She hadn't even transformed yet. "You still don't get it, do you? Your master only needed to train me until I was four before he left with you. You had nearly a decade with him and what did that do? I still kicked your ass without breaking a sweat."

There was always a look in her eyes when she was in battle—one that was determined and showed the ferocity on her delicate face. It was a daring look that all her opponents hated because after all their efforts, she would only rise again and refuse to be beaten until she saw King Yemma herself. Her eyes never changed during fights, even playful sparring matches like this one. Her blood only thirsted for more, which was unfortunate for most.

"Are you going to stand there or are you going to finally hit me!" he called out, scowling a bit.

" _Gladly_."

She appeared beside him, then behind, and flicked him on the nose as she stood in front of his face upside down, devilishly grinning. As he swung, she caught his fist and purged him into the air. Before he could repel back down, Pan appeared above him and aimed down at his gut, sending him to the ground without much effort.

Bra only sighed as she walked nine paces, stood her ground, and held out her arms. As she waited, Goten stood at the doorway, ready to announce his feat in the kitchen. Being close to his mother certainly paid off because he could replicate her recipes almost exactly. If he didn't like his pet clinic, he was sure if he opened a restaurant, it would be a success.

"Oh, just give me a second," Bra replied. Soon enough, she caught Uub from hitting the ground and before he could create a crater of where their camp was. When he opened his eyes, a flush of crimson came over his brown skin as she held him like a bride being carried out of church. "You do know how to properly sense ki, right?" she asked him nonchalantly.

"Sure," Uub coughed.

"So you _are_ aware that a fighter can hide their ki, even when they're supposed to be giving off random bursts when they fight," Bra finished, settling him down. He only felt his face become hotter as Pan finally touched the ground with a smile on her face.

"She played me?" He grimanced a look.

" _So hard,_ man," the amateur chef in the pink apron laughed. "Don't worry about it though. She got me once like that too."

"Once?!" Bra snorted. "Try literally every time you pick a fight with her and underestimate girl fighters!" Goten only scratched the back of his head.

Pan walked towards her friend, stretching her limbs as she made way. "That was a great warm-up, Uub!" the quarter Saiyan yawned happily, slapping his aching back. "We should totally go at it again after we eat and before we sleep. Don't hold back next time!"

"Y-yeah, sure," her sparring partner coughed, dusting off his clothes. He could still feel the edges of her foot against his ribs, but decided to play it off coolly.

"Alright, let's eat. This trip is about fun and not training," interjected Goten as he made his way inside. The others followed with Pan jumping on Uub's back and laughing about it. Bra only rolled her eyes as she was the last one behind again. She was beginning to resent the fact that her best friend had a best friend.

* * *

 _\- LATER -_

Marron inattentively stored the leftovers in the plastic containers the boys bought earlier, just scooping and throwing a few things here and there. It was a menial task, and she was doing it haphazardly. After eating a bit, she noticed her mood returning to normal— _however,_ normal included wondering anxiously of how she would talk to Goten. The trip had kept him busy enough, but soon, she wouldn't have a choice but to be alone with him.

She scoffed.

"Because _normal_ girls are so afraid of being alone with the person who loves them unconditionally," she sighed to herself, closing the lids on some of the full containers. She made way to the fridge and put more of an effort in aligning the boxes neatly before throwing away the paper plates they used, washing the serving platters, and wiping down the counters. Now there was nothing else she could do.

She had stayed back from gathering the dragon ball just in case thieves found their camp—though, she was pretty positive Trunks only mentioned being ransacked because he noticed her lack of conversation during their late lunch and early dinner. Marron didn't mind though. If there were thieves, she knew how to protect herself. Like her father, she trained with Master Roshi and occasionally sparred with the human fighters that came to visit their island. She may not be able to destroy the planet single-handedly, but her chance of survival were better than most.

A small smile crept up on her lips, thinking of her parents complimenting her fighting skills. Though she knew they were relieved she decided to become a teacher instead of training with Vegeta, she also knew that if a time came, she wouldn't be rendered useless. That thought kept her spirits up as she decided that she wasn't given a setback.

* * *

 _\- IN THE DESERT -_

Pan jumped up and down as she grasped onto the two-star ball. The other ball on her head frantically held on to the brown hat she wore as she threw the wish orb in the air, only to jump twenty feet high and rapidly cascade down.

"Giru danger! Giru danger!" shouted the small robot as she touched ground for the seventh time. Pan then fell back onto the desert sand, appreciating the coldness that replaced the scorching heat. "Pan fall! Pan fall! _Giru, Giru_."

"No, silly," she laughed, looking up. Unlike the city, she was beautifully placed between soft sand and a starry sky. They reminded her of looking at the ceiling in Bra's room, and all the nice memories she collected in her lifetime. She also felt reminiscent of her childhood, sitting on the roof with her grandpas, Goku and Piccolo. "I'm just tired. I forgot that I can't use that much energy when I'm in my regular form. I need to catch my breath!" She offered a genuine smile and for once, the small robot was happy to accompany her.

Unlike the four people who decided to take their time to trail the dry land by foot, Pan had dashed her way to their destination with Giru screaming. Though it _was_ a rule that they couldn't fly, no one ever said she couldn't run—and that she did! It only took her ten seconds to finish their walk and a minute to dig up the buried orange ball. However, the speed she needed to acquire for such a feat was more or less uneasy without glowing gold hair and bright green eyes— _which was another rule_.

 _Just another reason to train_ , she smiled to herself, adding a task to her mental goal list.

As she stood up, Giru scanned her with a red light to make sure she was indeed good to go. She dusted off the sand clinging onto her shorts and back before handing the ball to the small robot. "Store it after everyone else gets a chance to check it out. It'll make them more enthusiastic about finding the other ones. We're going to need some kind of initiative if we're slowing down to one ball every two weeks," she directed and the robot happily obliged. She then fell back to levitate herself on a bed of ki, crossing her legs and throwing her arms behind her head. She would never admit it, but she smiled when she saw the small robot do the same.

Pan waited for the others to catch up, knowing they'd probably like to enjoy their stroll. She imagined Bra using her wits to fool Goten and Uub in a clever riddle as Trunks sighed, wishing she'd give them a break. Uub would have taken the time to ask her questions and tell Bra his theories to figure out the answer. Meanwhile, Goten would give up after she refused to give the answer within a minute, and be distracted by his surroundings. Bra then would ask Trunks what he thought the answer was, but he would pretend to be uninterested to keep it to himself. He was smart like that, which she always liked.

Staring at constellations only reminded her of the people she was on this adventure with. The more she thought about her friends, the more she felt safe. As powerful as she was in physical strength, she learned from an early age that true resilience came from her connections to the world and how hard she fought to protect it. With her friends, she had something to live for and a home she could return to if she ever strayed.

A thought then made her feel uneasy. She remembered a time in the last months of her year off, the night she decided that she wouldn't return back to her university. She was living on Mount Paozu and had finished the last repairs of the small house when the screams of an injured young bear echoed outside her temporary home. Pan followed the animal inside a cave, hoping to use her special technique to at least stop its pain.

Then that's when it happened—the ceiling of the cave came to an abrupt fall by the agonizing yelps of the bear. She flew as fast as she could to cover it before the rocks fell above them. When it settled, she moved what she could to free the small creature as gruff sounds of a larger animal waited outside. When she stepped out of the rubble herself, she could see the child bear reuniting with its parent, relieved that no loss was taken that night.

However, it was in that moment—that _sweet_ moment she had faith in the good in the world—Pan was forced to learn she wasn't indestructible. As easily as one of the sharp stalactites above her dropped, as easily as she fell. In an attempt to jump out of the way, she had been stabbed through her stomach and pinned down to the debris beneath her feet. She was in shock and couldn't control her fast heart.

She wanted to scream, but she couldn't. She feared the other hanging rocks would only do the same to the rest of her. She was wishing somebody, _anybody_ would come to find her. She didn't care if it was Piccolo—or even Vegeta pulling her out to just fight her again. She would've taken a black eye over laying there, absolutely helpless and forced to just wait with diminishing hope. She had spent her whole life being her own hero, and there she was—the villain of her own coming death.

 _She_ was the one who decided to take a year off to travel alone. _She_ was the one who had been hiding for so long that the ones she missed were only left with waiting for her return. _She_ was the one who walked into the damn cave in the first place.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" She barely managed to whisper as she bit down her jaw to conceal her groan. She knew she was crying, but pretended it was anything but tears. Blood dripping from her eyes felt less pathetic than crying in a dark cave alone.

It was ridiculous! A bullet couldn't penetrate through her. She was from a family that cheated death more than once. She had trained every day of her life to be invincible... but yet, she wasn't. Her skin was fragile to a scratch by a nail, her bones could break by a simple fall, and her hope was easily shattered by her own faults.

As she laid there in a puddle of her own waste, she thought of all the things she would've done if she went back home. She would officially drop out of school and be unapologetic about it. She would find another hobby or get a job—maybe a part-time one at a studio or as a waitress, just something unrelated to fighting so she had some balance again. She would ask Vegeta to be her teacher once more because he took her seriously as a fighter, and was kind to her when she wasn't kind to herself. She would spend more time with her parents, read some of her dad's studies and ask her mom to teach her how to cook. She'd make it up to Bra for leaving abruptly and missing her birthday, and she wouldn't let Trunks or anybody else's rejection have authority of what she thought of herself. She was going to go back, appreciate her very rich life, and stop being so stubborn and so angry at things that weren't under her control.

To this day, she never understood how she made it out of there. A part of her believed she ascended past her natural Super form and blacked out from the lost of blood. However, she woke up outside of the cave, no puncture wounds, and greeted by the small bear that waited for her to come out. That night, she flew to a gas station at the bottom of the mountain and called Bra to tell her she was going home. After a minute of squealing, she knew Bra would call everyone in the phone book to let them know of the news. She went back that exact next morning, woke her parents up with breakfast, and didn't look back at her promise since.

Now, she was headed for another adventure with Mount Paozu being the last destination before home. As she saw Uub, Trunks, Goten, and Bra up a dirt hill, she and Giru waved their arms and held the dragon ball up high. The four friends slid down, cheering and excited to share it with Marron who was back at camp. It was in that moment, Pan felt extremely thankful.

* * *

 _\- BACK AT CAMP -_

When they finally made it back, they found Marron curled up asleep. They guessed walking over twenty miles took longer than expected. Giru held up the dragon ball, unsure of what to do next.

"Go ahead and eat it, buddy." Goten encouraged. The robot happily stored it inside his mouth. "She was already tired on the ride here and I can't blame her for being unable to wait." He bent over to kiss her on her forehead and carry her to the only room of their capsule house.

Bra settled on the empty seat with Trunks beside her and Uub beside him. Pan turned around after grabbing a banana and huffed when she had to sit on the dining chairs instead.

"Oh, c'mon. You're just going to sit all the way over there?" Bra teased. She patted her brother's thighs with an evil grin. "You can sit right here on this doofus. His forehead is much more comfortable than the back of that chair."

"Hey! You had a _good_ chance of having his forehead and eyebrows too," Trunks retorted, trying to hide his rosy cheeks. To his surprise, Pan planted herself right on his lap and scoffed to his sister who only giggled into her hand. He had look to at Uub as she leaned back and made herself more comfortable.

He brushed a hand over his mohawk when he felt turquoise eyes directed at him. "Um, can I help you?" Uub asked, forcing Trunks to find another place to advert his eyes.

He turned to see Bra grinning to herself. _Of course, she was up to something_. When he looked down, Pan was already looking up at him. "Want some?" she offered a piece of her fruit. He ate it because he was hungry, not because she was feeding him.

Bra leaned against her brother's shoulder, sighing in accomplishment. She managed to disregard Uub like he had done to her, make her brother slightly uncomfortable, and help her best friend out in a single move. She was _good_. On their walk back, every time she tried to talk to Pan, there was Uub. Goten only chose to talk to Giru so she was forced to make awkward conversation with Trunks about spinach. She figured it was a way to get them _all_ back, and now she waited for Goten to come back to the room.

After tucking in Marron and changing into pajamas, Goten made his way back out and furrowed his eyebrows at his niece being on top of his best friend. _Was he serious?_

"Anything wrong, Goten?" Bra chimed, seeing the discomfort in his face. Only Uub looked up as Pan shared her banana with Trunks who was now looking at the ceiling as a last resort. He opened up his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the blue-haired girl. "If you're going to use the bathroom, then hurry. We wanted you to go first to get back to Marron."

"R-right," he nodded, turning to the door behind him. When he left, Bra only grinned to herself even more.

"What are you so happy about?" Pan asked.

"I should ask you the same thing," she replied back, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "One of us can take the couch and there's the pull out murphy bed that can fit two unless two people would rather sleep on the floor together."

"How nice, B. You're sleeping on the floor with me?" Pan rebutted. Her best friend only laughed, knowing it was time to quit before she became the ring master of the mess of their lives. She wondered what she would do without Pan—no, she knew. She would've taken over the world by now if her best friend's disappointment didn't weigh heavily on her conscience.

Goten came out a moment later, however, with a disappointed look that was far worse that what Pan could conjure up. He was holding a small pill bottle with the label torn off, looking back and forth between it and everyone on the couch.

"I found these pills and I want everyone to be straight with me," Goten said sternly, catching the attention of everyone seated. "Did any of you bring drugs on his trip? That's not cool."

"Wha—" Before she could finished, her brother raised his hand like he was a child being scolded by his teacher.

"That's, uh, mine," Trunks coughed, causing the people around him to glare. He was aware of who those pills belonged too and seeing that no one else did, he could only protect a secret that was entrusted with him. He hated the disappointment in his best friend's face—but more importantly, he was detecting anger from the usually peaceful man.

"You of all—what the _hell_ did you bring this for?" Goten snapped. He remembered the clubs Trunks would take him too and the crowd that came along with it. However, he never suspected him _participating_ with them. That was a different low.

Pan turned her body to look at him, if Goten's look wasn't enough. " _Why_ did you bring those for?" she furrowed her brows.

"Are you dying?" Bra asked bluntly.

"No! Its not like that, I swear," he argued. He had to think of an excuse quick, and he was not proud of the answer. At all. Sometimes, he just didn't think and he knew he would be cursing himself to sleep.

"Well, what is it?" Pan asked for everyone else.

"Pills for erectile dysfunction!" he said it. He regretted it. He could've said he had a terminal illness to gain sympathy, but that rolled off his tongue naturally. He was of age now!

A sullen look came upon Goten's face, causing him to gulp and quickly put the pill bottle on top of the table. " _Oh,_ " was all he could actually manage.

"Yeah!" Trunks could've shouted that less prouder, but he had to sell it. It was his lie, and he was going for it. He noticed Bra and Uub looking away from him as Pan changed her glare to wide eyes. "Look, it's not something I like to talk about. Alright, guys? It happens! I'm getting older now."

"Yeah, cool," Goten finally said. "Uh, we love you still and support you, and... you know, all that crap. Good night."

"Goten! You're—" The door closed before he could finish. Trunks was actually a bit disappointment at the lack of attention he was getting. If he did have E.D., his friends sucked at being positive about it. "Guys?" he tried.

"Well, uh, we should be getting to bed now," Uub spoke for the girls as he rose from the seat. "Who's sleeping where?"

Bra immediately stood up next. "You can take the couch. I'm taking the bed. Since I'm mad at Pan, she can take the floor with Trunks," she declared.

"Hey! What are you mad at me for?" the dark haired girl spoke up. "Why do I have to sleep with him instead of you?"

"Uh, I'm sitting right here," Trunks tried to chime, but neither girl seemed to pay attention.

Bra scoffed, "I'll tell you what I'm mad about when we wake up tomorrow! It can wait, seriously."

"If it can wait, then why can I sleep on the bed with you?" she asked again. Bra rolled her eyes.

"Just sleep with him! What are you scared of? It's not like he's going to get a boner being next to you anyway... even if he could! What do you think the pills are for!"

Trunks only felt himself sinking lower into the seat and covering his face with his hands.

 _The things I do for my friends,_ he thought.

* * *

 **A/N** : And that's a wrap... for now! Poor Trunks, he's such a trooper but he's a very good friend for taking the fall. He spent the whole day basically helping Marron get space to think, but thankfully it helped her a lot. She's ready, and this small act will go a loooong way for the future. Luckily, Bra's the one who's resentful of Uub's presence (I was feeling really nice to the boys ok). I figured no better way to start their relationship development than by Bra tormenting Uub! She needed a hobby this summer while she's out of her lab anyway. (Cue evil laughs.)

BUT ALSOOOO! The excerpt of Pan's memory _may_ be insignificant now, but I honestly can't wait for you guys to read what I have planned. Like, I am SO READY! During this whole week, I decided that Trunks and Pan deserved their own separate arcs that weren't about getting together. I really didn't want this story to be about two halves completing each other, but more about two different people coming together. These two are so fiercely independent that I would hate to contradict their characterization because I, in laymen's terms, want them to pork. But yeah!

 **miyako saku** : Hiiii! Hope you've enjoyed the story so far because this is a safe place for those who like Trunks and Pan together! (Though I will admit, it's not going to be easy buuuut lots of cute moments coming soon.) We'll get through this arc together.

 **Nice Guest** : You're back! I hope you like this update. Thank you so much for the compliments! I really do try my best to make the characters in this story feel relatable and more personal because that's what stories are for and I really hope you continue to follow this story!

 **LVR4Trunks-n-Vegeta** : All the questions in your review made me step my game up so HARD while I was writing. I hope that a majority of what you asked is answered or at least, there's a clue of the future storyline going on. Thank you for following the story!

 **trunkspanlover89** : I just want to screenprint and like, hang all of your reviews on my wall because they're so thoughtful and I really appreciate having this conversation with a reader because it puts so much perspective of what's going on here besides just posting some writing online. I go through fanfics of my favorite characters all the time when I need to cheer up so it's really cool to be on the other end and I really hope this continues to give you a safe place to relax and enjoy yourself. But anyway, for our favorite, I promise Trunks is not going to suffer (as much!). But my regards are to your mom, and please don't feel the pressure to keep writing reviews if you're busy. I feel immense gratitude that can last me a lifetime with all you've written me so far!

 **PenguinsHockey14** : Helllo! Welcome back. Thank you so much for the review because I've been having this thought of the parents coming together and talking in my head about their theories of what's going on during this trip. I can't even focus myself to write it because I keep laughing about Vegeta being so supportive of this ship and then Piccolo just has war flashbacks of watching kid Trunks getting into trouble with Goten. I hope you've liked what's going on so far!

 **tpan** : Hi! I hope you've liked the update! But yeah, I wanted to make the age difference a thing in story because, well, I love Trunks and I think it was nice to have a story where he's dating someone younger and it isn't... creepy? I just wanted to stray away from an adult man kissing a little girl in middle school for sure. I hope you keep reading and thank you!

Alright, I could spoil what happens next but I'll only give you three previews/hints: 1) the five star ball is in a peculiar place, 2) somebody kisses somebody they shouldn't, and 3) people are watching them! Until next time.


	8. Part I - Chapter 8

**A/N** : Hi! It's definitely been a while since an update. I apologize, but excuse me because it's summer and my sleep schedule has been all over the place! I gave you guys a preview of what was to come and honestly I tried to fit it all in one chapter, but _darn_ —I wrote three! So here's Part I of this update.

 **Disclaimer** : Again, I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything related to the franchise.

\- _**CHAPTER 8**_ -

She quickly sat up and patted the cushion underneath her—sighing in relief when it was where she fell asleep the night before. Pan turned her head, seeing Bra sprawled out on the bed as Trunks and Uub slept on the floor. She was, indeed, where she was meant to be.

" _Strange dream,_ " she mumbled to herself, yawning into the back of her hand. Her recollection of her dream quickly faded from her head, changing her frustrated pout into a carefree grin. She couldn't see what outside looked like behind the closed curtains, but it didn't matter. Today felt like summer, and it was going to be glorious.

Pan lifted herself off the couch and made way to the bathroom to change into her new gi. With a small twirl in front of the mirror, she remembered finding the orange surprise on her bed with a small note of a doodle with her Grandpa Goku's face on it. He wasn't much of a writer, but she appreciated the effort he went through scribbling his, well, _signature_. She put the note in her dresser, making a mental note to frame it or put it in a photo album for keepsakes.

As she stood in front of the sink's mirror, she was actually deciding for once what to do with her hair. The incoming heat of the desert wasn't going to be friendly, and like all great strategists, she would need to adjust. When she saw the pair of scissors near the sink, she only shrugged. _Bra would fix it later_ , was the only thought she had before chopping her waist-length hair to her shoulders.

"Oops, gotta clean that up," she muttered to herself as she saw the mess on the floor. She didn't realized she inherited so much hair from her parents. Pan raised a hand, controlling enough ki to move her discarded strands to the trash with a simple wave. The floor was spotless.

 _Maybe I should be a magician in Satan City with that trick_ , she snorted to herself. She quietly made her way out and let the sun graze all around her newly freed neck. She could see some leftover strands sticking to her chest and neck, but she would shower later anyway.

Being enveloped in the warm blanket under the cloudless morning sky, Pan hadn't noticed the hand against the crook of her neck until she felt a single finger gliding against her side. She didn't bother to ask who it was— _the familiar stroke was obvious_. Once she heard the door clicking to close, she finally let go of the breath she was holding. It was in this quiet fleeting moment that she embraced the fluttering feeling of being in his grasp.

"You're up early," she teased, leaning her head back on his chest.

"I wasn't planning on it," he yawned. Trunks settled his chin on top of her forehead as he tried to blink his eyes awake. His jaw could feel her furrowing eyebrows from the odd position—but truthfully, he was a bit lazy to adjust himself. His body still felt strange sleeping for so long than what he was normally accustomed to. Five hours was enough, but last night he actually slept for a decent _six_.

Pan stared at the shapes of his face from her unique perspective. His hallow face to match the sharp cheekbones, his puckered lips still untouched by morning coffee, and even his long eyelashes were a bit exaggerated than what she was used to—but she admired all of it. He was certainly beautiful, and age only seemed to curate that. "Did I wake you?" she asked before adding a small laugh. "I mean, you were all cuddled with Uub that I didn't think you'd notice me waking up."

"As thankful as I am that he let me be the big spoon, I would rather be kicked in the face by Bra's tossing and turning," he snorted. He wrapped his arms around her neck and settled his head beside hers, rubbing their cheeks together gently. In another yawn, he spoke, "So are you going to train or do you want to have breakfast with me first? I think I saw a waffle iron in one of the cabinets."

She let out her own a snort, completely baffled. "You know how to cook waffles?"

"Don't sound _so_ surprised!" he replied with a flush across his cheeks. "I did help cook yesterday and it's not like I haven't cooked for a girlfriend before. Plus, it's breakfast. It's not—"

Pan cut him off with a mischievous grin.

" _Oh,_ " she nodded. "So, I'm your girlfriend now? Alright."

He only felt his face become hot. "I m-mean, it's not like we _have_ to label it—whatever you want, totally up to you. I like you, and I'm cool with what this is," he tried to save himself. His quick-thinking skills needed some work, especially after last night's fiasco with Marron's pills. He found himself biting his inner cheek.

" _Relax_ ," Pan assured, holding back an amused grin for him stammering. He was usually so confident—arrogant, really—but she liked when she caught him in these awkward moments. He was prone to many of them, but she was always surprised. She finished with a soft grin, "Really, it's fine. I like the sound of it. _Girlfriend_ has a nice ring. You sure that's singular though? No surprises back in West City?"

"Nope," he said, popping the 'P' without much thought. In all honesty, he hadn't really dated much of anybody since he took over the company. He had his fair share of early dinners and casual late night calls with a circulation of women—most of whom, _if not all_ , really didn't care much to date him seriously either. They were one of the same—ambitious career women who barely had time, temporary club-hopping women who simply liked the title but bore quickly, and then there were others that he'd simply would not know longer than a night. He never really counted the quantity of his romances when the quality and end results were practically identical.

Though, he guessed he wasn't much of a "boyfriend" to them either, if he was being fair. He prioritized his company over actually keeping them company. He opted to showering his mother, sister, and even Goten with gifts than showing appreciation to them instead. Their numbers were kept in his business phone than his personal, and—well, honestly, he was kind of a shit guy to date. _That's what it all comes down to_ , he admitted to himself. He was a proud man, but not completely clueless of his own faults.

He only felt her glare as the moment lingered quietly. "You're _staring_ ," he broke their silence.

"I'm just trying to figure you out," she squinted.

"You've been my best friend for the past four years. What do I have to hide?" he asked.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she said.

He darted his eyes to hers, meeting his light ones to her contrasting dark ones. He could hear his mother's voice telling him to relax his face to prevent wrinkles. _Don't scrunch your eyebrows too much! I know you want to look like your dad, but all those worry lines will age you faster._ If she could see the way they were looking at each other now, she would have a fit.

"You don't trust me?" he questioned.

"I trust you plenty," she responded with a shrug.

He broke their stare and looked towards the blurred horizon that resembled a red sea, contemplating his thoughts. "Then what's the big deal? You know me and I know you. Isn't that enough?"

"No," she said simply. A soft smirk came across her lips as he realigned his gaze with hers. "You and I may have the friend part down, but there's going to be more to come... and it's _not_ going to get any easier. In fact, it's going to get worse and worse."

He chuckled. "Geez Pan, that sounds like a _wonderful_ time," he said, radiating with sarcasm. She rolled her eyes but still remain indifferent.

"I know it sounds like I'm being cynical, but I'm not worried about us being happy. Happy is fickle enough to come and go as it pleases. What I worry about is when it gets rough and it's not easy," she explained. "I know what I want, and that's all or nothing. I don't want to have some part of you, or even just most of you. I want you and that's it. So if I'm not going to get that, then I don't see the point of making a big deal of the last few days."

Trunks took a second to think of what she was asking of him. It made him a bit nervous. _What if me alone isn't enough?_ he thought.

Pan glanced over to see him concentrating. She admitted it was a bit much to request such a feat of him. Any other person, she would've shown a little restraint and play it by ear. She could only guess what was going on his head, and assume nothing.

Because unlike any other person, this was different. This was _Trunks_. She didn't want to waste any more time wondering if he was loyal to her. Pan felt fearless in being honest of her actual wants, and she wanted it all—the good, the bad, the great, and the worst. If he didn't see her in the same light, she was fine with remaining friends. He was ready to speak when she cut him off again.

"Before you say anything, I want you to know that you're enough for me. I don't question that because, well, you've always been." He felt comforted in her short laugh. She continued, "But I understand if I'm not for you. I wouldn't want to be with you if I wasn't anyway. We both deserve to get the best out of life, and a wishy-washy relationship isn't it."

"You and me... that's enough for you?" he asked.

"You and me is plenty," she reassured. She turned away and let out a snort. "Actually, you and me might be kind of selfish. We're gonna kick ass at whatever comes our way."

A toothless grin emerged from his lips. "Alright," he finally said. "You're what I want."

She buried her head against the arm around her neck to contain herself and to hide her blush. It took a second, but then she planted a soft kiss as he started laughing on her shoulder.

"You still want waffles?" Trunks chuckled, watching her finally perk her head up and trying to be cool. Truth was, Pan was ecstatic. However, she remembered everyone still asleep inside and thought it best to not scream so early in the morning.

"Let me get some training in and I'll meet you back inside in a couple of hours?" she responded.

He nodded and finally let her out of his grip. She was already five feet in the air when he shouted, "Hey!"

"What?" Pan raised an eyebrow.

"Cute haircut!" He gave her a thumbs up as she rolled her eyes, and with that, he went in to make breakfast and she began to train.

* * *

\- _THREE DAYS LATER_ -

Though the desert held many fond memories, it had been decided that everyone needed a change of climate. They traded their low ground and hot weather for high peaks and snow outside a ski lounge.

The past few days had been routine: Pan woke up and trained, Trunks made breakfast and woke up the whole camp, Goten and Marron made another breakfast, and Bra would find a way to prank Uub. Some were simple jokes—hiding his clothes as he showered, replacing his sugar with salt, or her favorite, cutting strands of his mohawk to make him believe he was balding. Others were a bit more drastic, to the point where it was now a rule that Pan would _not_ spar with her while Uub was near any open flames. Needless to say, the dark-skinned man was more than happy to sit inside with Giru as Bra went snowboarding with her brother.

Pan sat at the bar with her uncle as he watched Marron drink her hot chocolate by the bay window. They had opted to take the lounge's offer of a whiskey tasting, and it was apparent enough in their rosy cheeks and lazy giggles that they were a bit tipsy in the afternoon.

"You two are the first people to reach the forty-seventh shot! I'm impressed," smiled the red-haired barkeep as she poured another brand into their glass. "Usually we would need to call the hospital for alcohol poisoning."

Pan grabbed the glasses and nudged Goten. "C'mon," she hiccuped. "T-two more and we'll—" _Hiccup._ "—finish!"

"Gohan is gon-gonna kill me," he burped into his hand before downing the crimson drink. His eyes trailed back to his fiance before tapping his niece's shoulder. "You think our kids would be... would be cute? I think so! I want, like, fifty of them!" he slurred.

She glared at him with a single eye and a frown. "Fif—" _Hiccup._ "That's a lot! Don't make her suf-suffer like that, you doofus!" The barkeep poured another. As she turned around to reach for a dusty bottle on the highest shelf, Pan leaned into Goten's ear and urged that they use some ki to burn out some of alcohol. They had been forgetting to do so since the sixteenth shot.

Goten coughed, trying to concentrate until his skin was warm and the hot feeling in his stomach was gone. Pan had forgot the cup in her hand and accidentally blew it up. She blushed.

"Uh, my bad!" she apologized as they were given another cup. "I guess I don't know my own strength after a few shots," she blushed. The bartender only gave a sympathetic nod.

"Don't worry about it. Usually by shot number five, there's a fist fight so you're good," she smiled. "Hey, you got rid of your hiccup! You're a true party legend." Goten only laughed.

The two Sons finished the last of tasting before winning a free meal at the lounge. Day drinking did serve a purpose, after all. They waited as the bartender went back to the kitchen and hand the cook their orders.

Pan turned to him with a laugh. "I can't believe we just did that for a couple of burgers and fries," she giggled. "It's like the time you snuck me out of school to the hotdog eating contest just to get free ice cream!"

He smiled. "Yeah, just don't tell your dad about either times," he laughed. One thing he was thankful for was his friendship with his niece. He had been the youngest for the majority of everything before she came along and joined the long line of fighters. For once, he was able to teach somebody else something and he liked that very much. Their food came and they began to enjoy their light snack. "After eating Trunks's waffles, these are like caviar!" he joked.

"Oh, he's not that bad of a cook," Pan said, dipping her fries in the pile of ketchup beside her plate. He wasn't as talented as Goten, but he wasn't completely clueless. The older of the two only glanced at her before returning to his plate.

"Sounds like you're still harboring a crush," he bit into his burger. He sounded a bit cold, but she ignored his tone. She was unfazed, really—too content to even be tickled by the obvious annoyance coming from her uncle.

"And is that so bad?" she asked, catching his surprise. He turned to look at her but she was staring off to the ceiling with a faint smile to even notice. "He's nice to me, treats me like an adult, and we have nice talks. I don't question if I trust him, and I'm not Mr. Satan's granddaughter or even Little Panny who needs to be protected when we hang out." She felt his glare and only glanced from the corner of her eyes. "I could do a lot worse, don't you think?" she raised a brow.

They were at a silent standstill. She was waiting for his response as he was was waiting for her to say something else. Luckily, they were interrupted as Uub yelped from Bra's cold hands almost strangling him. Pan looked at her friends laughing as Goten gestured to the bartender to take his plate and headed for Marron. When she turned back and he was gone, a part of her was irked.

Bra's laugh echoed through the room, caught some enamored gazes but she only giggled into her palm as Uub buried his neck in his sweatshirt. "Oh, relax! I was just trying to surprise you," she said innocently. Trunks offered an apologetic look as Uub sat with a grumpy frown. "Really? You're going to give me the silent treatment?" She jumped over to the seat beside him and waited for Giru to join her lap. He only folded his arms.

"Bra, you have been kind of picking on him a lot. Give the guy a break. He's on vacation and you practically almost set him on fire when you were training with Pan," her older brother more scolded than said. She rolled her eyes before continuing to examine her new hobby. Now he had thrown over the hood of his sweater and tightened the strings so only his eyes were exposed to look onto the open flame. A familiar memory crossed his mind.

She liked to watch him squirm. It helped her regain the confidence she lost, and in all honesty, he fascinated her a bit. He was human, yet he was durable like the people in her bloodline. She was curious when he would _break_.

Trunks only rolled his eyes as Bra began to tug at Uub's drawstrings so he was completely enveloped inside his sweater. He was unflinched as she used her speed to steal a handful of fries and began pushing them inside the small hole she created. The lavender-haired man only averted his gaze to the woman talking to the barkeep, ordering another batch of fried potatoes.

He made way and stood against the stool beside her, waving for a cold beer. "Cute sweater," he said nonchalantly, nodding to the frothy glass in his hand. He sat down and she trailed the rim of her glass with a single finger. "I think I have the exact same one."

Pan only grinned, remembering Bra had offered to bunk with Uub and Giru so she could room with the man beside her. They had decided to hold off on the kissing and hand holding until _after_ they were ready to tell their friends. Neither minded much, and had intended to sleep in the separate beds provided anyway. However, they more or less enjoyed unpacking for the next few days and tucking their clothes in dressers together. She might've taken a sweater, but he was at her whim because she snapped photographic evidence of him in one of her crop tops. They were looking forward to the expensive mini bar, jumping on the bed, and other things they couldn't do when they shared rooms with their friends.

"How was snow?" she asked, holding up a dipped fry near his mouth. He didn't hesitate to eat it, earning a sly smirk from the redhead refilling her water.

"Besides looking like an amateur next to my little sister?" He swallowed and wiped his mouth from the salt. He offered a faint smile, "I say I was really proud of her. How was the whiskey tasting? You know, you're going to have to get over your dislike of cold weather because I like it here."

"Yeah?" she nodded and he followed in suit with his own _yes_. "Well, too bad! I would rather streak across a nude beach then bundle up in three coats just to go build snowman."

"Oh? Oh, really?" he egged on, leaning in closer to tug on the hem of the sweater she wore. "Well, guess what? I'm gonna stuff you in _five_ coats and we're going to build a snowman. You're going to love it and every time—" She opened her mouth to interject but he simply took some of her fries and fed her before raising a finger, gesturing her to listen. Pan furrowed her eyebrows but then began to laugh even more, when he slapped her back because she was choking on her food.

When she caught her breath and assured all the spectators that she was fine, she pushed him out his seat. "You know I can't laugh while I eat!" she tried to scold, but was still in a fit of giggles. He sat back in his seat and began to apologize, waving a hand to the bartender to pour him another beer. "Are you done now? Can I tell you about my day too?" she asked.

Their murmurs of chuckles faded and with a deep sigh, he nodded for her to continue. He even stole the leftover fries on her plate so he wouldn't interrupt her.

"Thank you," she patted his thigh. She leaned against the bar counter, moving her plate his way before continuing. "The whiskey was fine. I won a burger. Also, when I call my parents this weekend, would you mind if I told them about you?"

He washed down the salt with his drink. "You want to tell them about me?" Trunks asked.

"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't," she replied. "The thing is, once I tell my mom, then she's going to tell my dad and my dad is going to tell your mom, and then—"

"—we're going to throw away our phones? Because if you do tell _your_ mom, then _my_ mom's going to get my dad to fly her wherever we are and hound you with personal questions?" he finished.

She frowned. "Plus, Piccolo might kick your ass because you're the kid he was tormented by and I'm _Perfect Pan_ who could do no wrong?"

"Um, what about _my_ dad?" he interjected with a raised brow. "He's going to make you fight him to see if you've earned the right to join his bloodline. You might have to disown Goku as your grandfather. Are you ready for that?"

She scoffed. "If you're ready to see your old man get beat up," she rebutted with a smirk across her lips. She reached for his hand and held it below the counter. "Hey, I know what I'm asking for and I'm willing to put with the things I didn't. You in this or not?"

He glanced past her shoulder to the two sitting near the fire. Bra was now shooting spitballs out of a straw as Uub huddled inside his sweater. There was an empty space by the bay window, but she knew what he was suggesting. "We have to tell them first," he told her. "It's only right."

Pan only nodded.

" _Then_ I'll cheer you on while you fight my dad," he winked.

* * *

\- _OUTSIDE SOMEWHERE ON A CAFE BALCONY_ -

Yellows and pinks danced off the heaps of snow below them as the sun began to set behind the iced horizon. She had another hot chocolate as he finished his call with his brother about deciding the wallpaper for his new office. For two people who used lived in a cramped studio apartment at nineteen, working dead-end jobs so they could break even on rent, this wasn't so bad.

Marron pushed a strand behind her ear before using her drink to warm her hands. The past few days had almost been a bit unbelievable. Though she wasn't a fan of the blowing sand and scorching heat, she missed the desert she grew so fond of. Whether it was finding an oasis together or spending the night out against a campfire, Goten had done the thing he did best, and that was finding new ways to surprise her. She remembered the morning she woke up guilt-ridden and he only let her lay against him in silence as he stroked her hair.

"I'm sorry," he finally spoke up as he moved her blonde hair away from her face. "I was caught up with this trip that I didn't really pay attention to what's going on with you. You don't have to tell me now but when you're ready, I'm here." He then proceeded to shower her days with endless attention and little spontaneous activities—in fact, it took Pan wanting to do the whiskey tasting for him to take a moment away from her. Nonetheless, she wasn't unbothered by it. She was more appreciating every last second of it.

She watched as he told Gohan that he loved him and that their hunt was going well so far. That was one of her favorite things about him—how close he was with his older brother and how unlike his father, he wasn't afraid of public displays of affection. He slid the phone back into his pocket before returning her gaze.

"Everything going fine?" Marron asked.

"Yeah. Gohan was telling me that I should be considering a ' _serious solid color_ ' for my office so people wouldn't be fooled by how young I look, but I like the dinosaur wallpaper I picked out," he smiled hazily. Of course, he liked that best. He had inherited the famous innocent charm the Sons were known for.

She took a second to look at his thoughtful face, taking a second to adore that so often he would daze out and be in his head more than he was credit for. Most brushed off for him being like his father—naive, simple, and carefree—but she saw more than that. Goten was smart. _Logical_. He had a better sense of moral than most, and was always considerate of how everyone would be affected than simply just himself. She loved that about him.

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" she interrupted, causing him to look up.

"Actually," he paused, assuring himself that what was on his mind was something he want to share. "It's about Trunks. I know he's been keeping something from me, and I know what it is, but I'm not sure how to bring it up."

"Oh?" she said, a bit surprised.

Goten scratched his nose. It was a nervous tick when he was uncomfortable. "Yeah, well, it's not just about Trunks. It's about Trunks and, well let's say, a _girl_. You see, I care about this girl a lot and the last thing I want for her is to feel hurt about anything. I know she's keeping something from me too, but she's not sure how I'll take it. So what should I do?"

" _Oh,_ " Marron coughed dreadfully. The blonde moved her hands to her lap to rub the hem of her shirt, her own nervous tick. "Well, it sounds like you already know... um, how do you think _they_ think you'll react?"

"That's where I'm conflicted. You see, I know the best thing to be is supportive and just deal with what we're dealt with, right? At the same time, it's not what I want," Goten said sternly. A knot formed in her gut. Though, she wasn't upset. She was pissed.

Marron balled her fists. "Well, _maybe_ it's not up to you. Maybe this girl is just as confused at what to do and dislikes that she can't turn to you right now because it's hard for her! Trunks is probably being supportive and keeping it a secret because _she_ asked."

Goten furrowed his brows. Marron wasn't a cold person, but she had an aloof bluntness like her mother and sometimes it surprised him. He coughed, "I guess you're right—but still, it affects me too so I think I could feel some way about it. I just don't want to wake up fifteen years later and regret not doing anything about it. I can compromise, but again, it's not what I want. I'm not sure if I could even grow _not_ to resent it, if I'm being honest."

She felt a rage now.

 _How dare he be so unreasonable? It's MY body! What could he say about it? Nothing! Grow not to resent it?! Who does he think he is? He's selfish, completely selfish!_

Then, in the next moment, she felt sympathetic, and honestly, a bit sad.

 _But... this isn't what he wants... and he's so sure of it. How could I ask him such a thing? He's always wanted kids_ — _a whole lot of them! His own flesh and blood... He's always told me this, and I want to be surprised about what he's saying? I'm... the selfish one._

The man with the messy dark locks yawned into his arm, sitting back and enjoying the view. He was blissfully oblivious to the breaking woman sitting in front of him. "I guess, I just always pictured that Trunks's kid and mine would kind of end up together like you and me, you know? I get that it sounds silly, but could you—" He turned around to see the slow, mascara-stained streaks painting her face. "Marron, are you okay?"

She didn't even realize she was crying until she touched her face, and it was wet. She reached for a napkin and neatly wiped around her eyes, hiding her face when she felt like she was about to continue bawling.

"Goten, I'm sorry. I can't do this. I can't do this to you," she stammered, looking up from the dirty paper towel. He only looked at her with confusion. "You know what you want, and I... I can't give it to you. Not the way you deserve, at least. I'm sorry." She looked at her knuckles, the small rock taunted her. She felt obligated to take it off. "Take this back. I don't want to force this on you, and I don't want us to be unhappy in fifteen years. I don't want you to compromise on _anything_ —that's not fair."

When she handed him the ring, he held on as she got out of her seat. "Marron, what's wrong? Why are you leaving?" he begged to know. She tried to tug away but he only tightened his grip. "Talk to me! Or at least, let me come with you."

" _No,_ " she finally got free. "Please... don't. I'm only going to feel worse than I already do. My doctor yesterday called and asked if I wanted to go forward with a cervicectomy before our next appointment, and I said I didn't know because I wanted to know what you thought but it's clear enough that you want kids... your _own_ kids. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked Trunks to keep this from you, at least it would've been easier. Please don't hate him, because your kid and his ended up being together would be nice. Maybe they could correct our mistake."

Goten quickly stood up and stopped her from moving any further. "Marron, _what_ are you talking about? What are you and Trunks keeping from me? Talk to me!" he demanded. "What do you mean my own kids? A cervicectomy? What's going on?"

"I had an abortion!" she blurted out. A silence fell on the balcony. She knew she made some of the guests uncomfortable. When she saw his face for a reaction, she felt her stomach knotting and the muscle in her heart constricting. It _hurt_. He averted his gaze at their feet, letting go of his grip that was stopping her from leaving. She couldn't now. Every nerve of hers was anchoring her down, but her voice was so quiet. " _Say something._ "

"Was it mine?" he finally offered.

Marron paused, a bit taken back. That wasn't what she—well, expected. She huffed, " _What?_ "

"Was the—" She slapped him. A pulsing red print appeared on his left cheek. He averted his eyes to look up at her. "Was _it_ mine?" he questioned her.

She slapped him again.

"Marron," he stiffed.

"We were only apart for a _summer_ ," she paused, breaking away from him completely. "How _dare_ you ask me that? You think I got over twenty years with you that easily! What? Did you sleep with somebody else when we were apart!"

Now he was caught in his untold truth.

Marron paused, knowing the look on his face—how he couldn't look her in the eye, the way he scratched his nose— _everything_.

"You didn't..." she started but was unable to finish. She knew the answer, and she hated it. She absolutely, positively _loathed_ it. Now, she was crying again and she wished she had more pride to not. "I'm going to go back to our room and pack my things—"

He quickly looked up at her, but she only interjected before he could say anything. She didn't want to hear it.

"I'm not leaving," she continued. "I'm going to go room with Pan instead. I—" She didn't understand why she was lingering. She was hurt, and had a right to storm off, but she couldn't. She was confused. "—We'll talk," she corrected before walking away.

Goten watched as she disappeared back inside the crowd of people. Everyone was staring at him—the fool holding a returned engagement ring.

* * *

\- _OUTSIDE SOMEWHERE_ -

"Are w-we seriously b-b-building a snowman right now?" she smiled with her shivering teeth. He ran over the mounds of snow, tripping on a twig, and hurried to put on her hood to cover her head. He patted the fabric to make sure she was cozy.

She heard his giggle echoing in the breeze. Trunks ran back to where he once stood, patting down the snow as round as he could, and laughing to himself as his creation became more and more together. He had kept his word about stuffing her in five coats to build a snowman—though, he figured two jackets layered together was enough.

"Look at it, Pan! Look! He's coming alive!" he shouted. She wanted to shake her head but she had already been shaking her entire body. She hated cold weather and had been told they were going to be outside for a few minutes—but he was so enthusiastic that she couldn't deny him this joyous activity. She would freeze to death than miss this.

"Trunks!" she yelled as he started to do flips in the air. When he finally heard her, he lightly sat on top of the snowman's head. "Y-you have to calm down! You're getting w-way to excited and it's scaring me," she laughed, folding her arms.

He threw his arms in the air. "Get excited, Pan! It's snowing and the moon's out. We're on vacation, and don't have to answer anybody else. Aren't you happy to be with me here?"

They were silent as a small blizzard passed and left traces of ice on the top of their heads. She could see the frost that sat on his long eyelashes.

She was very happy.

* * *

 **A/N** : AND BOOM! Part I of 3 is done! Usually this is the part where I reply to your reviews, but since I'm in the process of getting Part II out within the next couple of days, I thought it best not to linger and let another while come before I post another chapter.

Also, yes, I know—I included _none_ of the previews I said I would in this but that's because those things come in the next two chapters! With the whole Marron/Goten reveal, I wanted to balance it out with loads of Trunks/Pan because I want to get them established and want them to be happy before—well, the next chapters.

What else is there to tell you guys before I go edit Chapter 9? OH YEAH, thank you so much for your reviews and for following this story! I know I say it all the time, but truly, thank you because writing this has been so fun and I love how interactive this is. You've all made me so happy and I can't say it enough.

So I won't because 9 is going to introduce some new characters and 10 has been so fun to write because something that rhymes with _temon_ is included and this is a warning: I'm so bad at writing intricate/porno-esque sex, but I love what I have so far because it's cute and clumsy and AHHH! I can't wait to share it with you all! Next chapter is coming out soon! Thank you for reading!


	9. Part I - Chapter 9

**A/N** : Sorry if this took a day longer to get up! The internet at my new place is a little unreliable so it's been hard to post, but here we are! Part II of this update. Part III will be up in a couple of days or so— _or at least, that's what I'm hoping_. Anyway, let's go on with it!

 **Disclaimer** : Again, I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything related to the franchise.

\- _**CHAPTER 9**_ -

They laid in the quiet dark watching the shadows of leafless tree branches dance up and down against the moonlight. The wind brushing their window was loud enough to fill the room with soft echoes as the small metal Giru's recorded and edited snores of their friends played. Though it was fairly easy to distinguish what belong to who as they laid there, the audio only seemed to make the room feel more grand. Not that they had been given the largest suite from the lounge—far from it, actually—but it made the place so far away from home feel more... _elsewhere_.

It was still early in the evening, but after the hotel service stopped running for the day and bartender's last shift ended, the guests retreated to their rooms. They didn't opt to stay in the deserted lounge in excuse of the day being over—but for two young adults who had the endurance that could outlast a thousand horses combined, it was more or less of a lie. They were both unfamiliar with turning in at such an hour. If they were home right now, she would be in her lab still working on her latest creation and he would be working on the fields after the farmers grew tired.

But for two people who seemed to have the same eternal clock, they couldn't be any more different—or at least, that's what it felt like. They had spent the past few days together, but it was out of being the remnants than out of actual friendship. They were the outliers, whether it be because she was the youngest and he, well, just wasn't close enough to everyone else. Nonetheless, they didn't seemed to be bothered by the fact that living so closely with other people only meant spending less time with them. Neither of them just didn't know how to talk to the person they shared a room with.

Bra had respected his decision to turn in early. There wasn't much to do here but play in the snow, sit by the fireplace, or sleep. She had done the first two enough to be tired of it, but the third only escaped her. Her initial plan was to put ice in his boots so they would melt by morning, but even _that_ was beginning to lose its edge. He was beginning to anticipate her pranks, and truthfully, her originality in them began to lack all the creativity she was known for in her lab anyway. She longed to be back.

She heard a cough and looked to the bed parallel to hers, separated by an aged-wood nightstand.

"I'm, uh, assuming you're awake too?" called a voice. She lifted her head and propped on her elbows. He sat up too with his back against the headboard. "Yeah, I guess it's a bit early still."

She reached over, pulling the lamp's string on. She blushed seeing his bare chest before immediately pulling up her knees to her chin. He was indifferent however, looking more to the ground that at her. Maybe she shouldn't have turned on the light. He was pretty modest—even in the heat of the desert or when he exited the bathroom after a shower, he always covered up. His eyes probably needed more time to adjust too.

Uub stayed still, letting the air touch his chest. He liked the cold, and how different it was to his home on the island. Unlike most tropical paradises, not only was the climate only humid but it was drying. He spoke up, "Hey, Bra?"

"Yeah?" she replied, bringing her sheets to her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he said simply. "I'm not sure what I did to you or if you're just upset and taking it out on me—it doesn't matter. It's not important. I'm just sorry."

She paused, contemplating her feelings. She had been upset, yes. However, she never wanted to warrant an verbal apology. She didn't need it. Why would he say such a thing to her? A rose flush came on her cheeks, though she more or less held her father's scowl too.

Still, he continued, oblivious to her. "I just—it must suck being the fifth wheel now. I guess I don't mind it because I've never been that close with any of you, but you're different. You've known all these people your whole life and now they kind of paired off. Goten has Marron. Trunks and Pan are obviously something and—"

Bra lifted her head with a raised brow. Her curiosity was getting the best of her now. "You know about them?" she asked without needing to specify.

Uub snorted, "You just told me."

Her brows met in the middle at being bested—but also because, well, he sounded so... _arrogant_. If that was even possible. No, that wasn't it. It was a genuine laugh, and she admittedly hadn't heard much of it because, _again_ , they just didn't do that with each other. Bra buried her mouth back onto her knees, not wanting to talk.

"I'm kidding," he joked. "I knew Pan was into somebody else when we left Korin's together. When I saw her come back to you all, it was obvious it was your brother."

She turned her head, looking at him again. "You... and _Pan?_ "

Uub scratched the back of his neck. "More or less," he answered. "More less though," he corrected, noticing her bright eyes watching him curiously. He only assumed she was making a mental note to report back to the subject at hand, so he wouldn't deny her the truth. There wasn't any point to lie.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Nothing much," he began. "We trained at Korin's together. She came during the last month of my own time, and we became fast friends. Afterwards, we left to my home, she met my brother and sister, caught some robbers, and I just sort of asked her to be my woman. That's basically it."

" _Your woman?_ Seriously?" she blinked. Then she replayed the entire sentence in her head. "Wait, some robbers?"

Uub sighed, raising a single knee to throw his arm around it. "I was wondering what you'd ask about first," he smiled to himself. "But yeah... _robbers_. You see, the island I live on—before, it was unfriendly place. There wasn't much food or riches, so often people got desperate. It was either you work to try to grow crops for barely anything or you just took things from other people for your own benefit. When Goku came to live with my family, the island seemed to be better. I mean, how can you hurt a man who could dodge bullets and wanted nothing but good things?"

She nodded, remembering her mother's best friend and father's long rival. He was something admirable and his kindness was contagious, affecting everyone he met. She guessed that's why she liked being around Pan so much, but also why she was so fond of his son.

She stopped herself, holding her fingers to her closed lips. _Am I really thinking of Goten like that still?_ she wondered. She turned to Uub who was still talking, and felt bad for not listening to his story completely.

"Anyway, so we're planning our stakeout to catch the looters, and without warning, Pan just rushes towards them when she noticed them coming out of the old lady's house. She bends their guns and tells them to never return or she'd kick their asses herself. It was hilarious to me, but my brother and sister were in so awe of her. So caught up in the moment, I just asked her to be my woman. She said no, of course. I don't blame her though. It wasn't about her."

Bra sneered, "So you ask a woman you weren't even interested in to be yours? How thoughtless."

He rolled his eyes to her. " _Relax,_ " he assured. "I wasn't asking her to cook for me and bare my children. She knew I wasn't interested in that. I just wanted to be apart of that family of hers, you know? It sounds silly but—"

"No, I get it," she interrupted him, much to his astonishment. It was his turn to watch her curiously now. She remained silent though, and he couldn't help but notice how sullen she seemed now. It was different from her amused grins when she picked on him, and he wasn't sure how to react to it. He wanted to ask, but wasn't sure if it was his place to. This was their first decent conversation, after all.

Uub resorted to retreating back under his sheets and forcefully yawning. "Yeah... but I'm rambling. We should sleep now," he suggested, turning away.

"Yeah, sure," she agreed. Though when he began to quietly snore, she rose from bed and made her way out to reflect.

* * *

\- _SOME PLACE CLOSE BUT NOT CLOSE ENOUGH_ -

There were four of them, each baring a distinct red tattoo on their forearms and standing on what seemed like glass. Though they almost resembled earthlings, they were not part of the small blue and green planet in the Northern quadrant of the 7th Universe. More or less, they had come from their own part across the vast space, in their own galaxies, fated to meet each other and be bound to another without a choice. They only waited for their fifth member, who was oblivious to their presence in the sky. Though, she couldn't sense them even if she knew they were only a few kilometers away. The alive couldn't feel the half-dead.

"You're practically _drooling_ over her," the young Kaje ( _Kah-jeh_ ) rolled her eyes, leaning against the wall of their cloaked cube. With her chestnut locks neatly suspended above her cream-colored shoulders, she looked at her nails again and sighed. Every now and then, they came to check on their awaited chosen one from Earth, and every time, she remained the same—happy and carefree. It was _boring_.

The youngest and often the reluctant receiver of Kaje's passive aggressive insults, Zeeko ( _Zeeh-koh_ ), perked up his brown head, letting his short and messy strands stiff even more in every direction. He averted his red eyes to her cerulean ones, positive he was tired of her attitude whenever they visited Pan. He had come from Luna, a planet in the South quadrant of the universe. Unlike Kaje's planet Ravi, Lunians weren't aggressive, war-loving morons. They were healers and peaceful, practically known for never choosing to fight. However, he wasn't feeling as generous for when he was around Kaje.

"Excuse me if she's more interesting than you," he snorted, returning to watch Pan play in the snow. His soft face then turned impatient. "I don't get why we have to wait for her mark to show up. All we do is just stand here and wait! We know she has one, so why are we just standing around here?!"

The oldest of the four, Fadel ( _Fuh-dell_ ), sighed, folding his long arms and remaining stoic as always. "Zeeko, you're starting to touch my nerves. Quiet down, will you?" he spoke softly. He didn't need to raise his tone to get his point across, the younger man listened to him.

Kaje watched as Fadel returned to his seat, satisfied with Zeeko not talking loudly anymore. _Of course he listens_ , she held back another eye roll.

The younger waited until the man with raspberry short strands and bright yellow eyes—completely warm-colored and unsuited for such a cool person—returned to his mediation. Or at least, that's what Kaje called it. Zeeko just assumed he was napping.

Fadel was from the center of the universe, where most of the Galactic Patrol met and justice system of the Seventh Universe took place. From an early age, he had to learn to remain indifferent, being that his parents were judges in the Galactic Court that worked for Zeno, the Omni-King. Kaje respected his high prestige, being that she herself was an heir to Planet Ravi's throne—but Zeeko only saw a tired man who didn't have a chance to enjoy his youth. Planet Luna didn't care much for such political structures, but he guessed he was lucky that way.

"Sorry," he finally apologized, continuing his gaze. The volume in his voice began to disappear. "Guess I don't like waiting..."

The brunette glanced over to the quiet, silver-haired girl standing idly by, sharing an annoyed expression to her unfazed one. She then looked at the boy staring out of the glass window. "Pick yourself up!" Kaje snapped, causing even Fadel to look up at her. "Don't forget that you _already_ threw us off course to save her from that cave. If anything, you prevented her mark from showing up any time soon. Did you forget that she has annoying Saiyan blood? Those dumb violent monkeys get stronger every time they _don't_ die. The Nograd won't come to her unless she's in purgatory, you d—"

"Hush, Kaje. You sound like a bitter hag speaking to Zeeko like that," said the reserved man, still even his gentle voice. Fadel was not one to say such things for as long as the other three knew him. Even the collected Yeeva ( _Yeev-ah_ ) seemed to look at the man curiously. Feeling a burning rage in the pits of her stomach, she turned to the hot-tempered Kaje who's balled fists seemed to cause her own hands to bleed. It was strange to be connected to a person like this, she supposed. Kaje often forgot since Yeeva, much like Fadel, was a stoic who's calm demeanor remained still even in the worst situations. She didn't even fear her own death.

Zeeko looked at him, surprised that the unbiased man was at his defense. In return, Fadel glared before turning his eyes to Yeeva, who's orange blood seeped out of her olive skin as the annoyed brunette who's own damaged palms did the same. The youngest of the bunch walked over, hovered his large hands over her petite ones, and healed the girl with silver hair. Kaje's hands returned to normal, but she was to prideful to say thank you.

"You shouldn't be so merciless," Fadel spoke to the proud woman, earning a grunt. "Zeeko is merely connected to Pan, or have you forgotten you're as bounded to Yeeva over there too?"

" _I'm well aware of what a_ soul half _is_ ," Kaje sneered. "Unlike the either of you, I live with mine and she's aware of me too."

The older only sighed, closing his eyes. "That may be so, but all I'm saying is to have some perspective. She may not be able to sense him, but he's well-versed in her state of being—her pain, her pleasure, her everything. What he is feeling is simply her transference. If she's happy from being in love with that man she's with, then he feels that too. Plus, I doubt he'd want to transgress those emotions onto you, considering how much of a brute you are."

He felt her scowl, but concentrated on his breathing. It was growing tiresome playing mediator between such a hot head and Zeeko. Kaje only scoffed, looking at the youngest who returned to watching out of the glass window. "You sure about that, Fadel? He looks in love to me. We are capable of feeling our own emotions, if _you_ _'ve_ forgotten—and we both know what happens when soul-halves come together." Zeeko looked at her, watching her mouth ' _BOOM!_ ' as her fingers playfully wiggled.

He only rolled his eyes, having enough of Kaje's incessant need to be mean to him. Sarcasm was practically the native language on Ravi. Insults and teasing were only the second and third. How could one take so much negativity and only come out even more hard-headed was a wonder to him!

 _Ravians are almost identical to Saiyans though_ , a thought crossed as he bit the nail of his thumb. His eyes averted to Pan again who was playing in the snow with so much innocence—even if part of her blood was the same as that warrior race, he could never tell. At least, she was just a quarter.

Fadel opened a single eye to watch the younger man looked out the window so adoringly. Yes, he knew exactly what happened with soul-halves came together. It was a shame, almost. To be alike in so many ways, and to share such a bond together that your lives were practically bounded to one another's— _a shame, indeed_.

Still, he was not one to contest with the truth. He was from the center universe where there were meant to be _two_ warriors that had been marked. Unlike the other three, his mark was a combination of two pieces, not just one. He couldn't let Zeeko make the same mistake, or even believe any different.

Yeeva then coughed quietly, catching the attention of the others. "We've stayed long enough," she spoke softly, looking towards the man sitting down. "Fadel, I believe it's time we return. I feel her joining us soon if we let her be. We must know our place in the natural world. She has no recollection of what Zeeko has done for her anyway. You made sure of that."

The younger man perked up his head at the last statement, earning a stern look from the older with the ruby hair.

"So be it," was all he said.

* * *

\- _STILL OUTSIDE IN THE SNOW_ -

He balled up more of the iced powder before it melted completely from his hot hands. Trunks wasn't paying attention to the amount of ki he was emitting. After a while, he was growing colder and had to warm himself up somehow. Pan was hiding and she was having a hell of time surprising him. He couldn't even sense her presence anywhere near him—or the mountain, for that matter.

In the next moment, he felt a pair of legs dangling from on his shoulders. He looked up at the upside down head smiling at him. She was holding a can of soda in front of his eyes, urging he take it. He blinked, reading the can's label. It was his dad's favorite.

"Your mom and dad are _way_ too comfortable now that they're alone," she snorted, handing him the soft drink. She flipped over and landed on her feet. "I'm surprised they still get it on!"

Trunks blushed, spitting out his sips from the opened can. "Pan! That's not something I want to think about... _please_ ," he begged.

She reached for his hand. "Why not? Aren't you happy that you're probably going to have a long sex life too? Or are we still lying about your problem?"

" _Pan_. I told you the truth in private," his cheeks still grew hotter as she gripped tighter at his fingers, leading them back inside. Even in the cold, his body managed to stay warm.

"I know, I know," she sighed, looking back at him. "I'm just teasing while no one is around. I can't joke with you now that we're together? I _was_ one of your best friends."

"Hey," he nudged, letting go of her hand. "You still are until we tell everyone else."

Pan rolled her eyes, gripping his fingers again. "Stop being so shy!"

When they made it back inside to the hallway of their hotel room, they found a blonde sitting outside their door with her suitcase. She had knocked on their door several hours ago, but opted to wait for their return. This trip had been much of theirs as it was meant to be hers. She couldn't expect everyone to drop what they were doing because she and Goten were in a fight.

Trunks and Pan shot looks at each other as Marron looked up with a hazy smile and red puffy eyes. She wiped her face, ready to welcome them back but then was distracted by their intertwined fingers. " _Oh_ ," she said surprisingly.

The man with lilac strands blushed yet again in the last ten minutes, knowing what exactly Marron was wide-eyed over. However, Pan was the one to let go and rush to the blonde's side as he stood by.

The raven-haired girl knelt over and put a hand on Marron's shoulder. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

Marron shook her head, forgetting what she saw and now remembered why she was crying outside their door in the first place. _He slept with somebody else_ , she frowned. _Then he had the audacity to accuse me of such a thing! Was I that forgetful to him?_

Pan hugged her, still unsure of what was going on. The only thing she could do is comfort her distressed friend. She asked, "Would you like to come inside and talk about it? I think I saw your favorite tea in the basket they gave us."

"Yes, please," she barely managed before tears streaked her face again. The two girls rose and made way inside, closing the door before Trunks could even realize what was happening. He blinked as he heard the lock click.

"Hey! Where am I supposed to go?!" he shouted, knocking erratically. With a sigh, he slid down with the door against his back. He supposed sleeping out in the hallway wasn't such a bad alternative. He wore three coats for a reason.

Pan then materialized in front of him with _his_ suitcase. He frowned as she looked down at him.

"Seriously, I'm getting kicked out of my own room?" he asked shortly.

She kissed him to his surprise.

"I'll make it up to you," she winked before disappearing again. On top of his suitcase, she had left Marron's room key. He let out a loud sigh—loud enough for them to hear, earning a _'SUCK IT UP!_ ' from the two girls. Trunks only rolled his eyes, making way down the opposite side of the lounge.

* * *

\- _HER OLD HOTEL ROOM_ -

When he returned to his room, he noticed the empty half that once held her things. It made his stomach drop, remembering a time when he came into a room like this. Though she wasn't completely gone, he didn't like being even _this_ far from her. It threw him off.

He heard a knock, rushed to it, and frowned at the guest. Goten stepped aside, allowing some entry.

"Geez, you could be a bit more excited at seeing me," Trunks scoffed amusingly, settling his bag on top of the bed. There was only a single king-sized mattress and he sighed—not because he minded sharing, but at how divided the room was. Goten's things were sprawled across the furniture, even a couple of shirts stuck out in the provided dresser in his half of the room. Marron's side was tidy, as if room service came to only clean one side of everything. His eyes then caught the lonely ring on the nightstand, making him feel even more unwelcoming.

Goten coughed. "She's in your room with Uub?" There was a sense of jealousy he felt, and that was more than apparent in his voice.

"No, uh," Trunks bit his inner cheek. "I was rooming with Pan."

"Oh," he said quietly, unfazed. He shook his head—Marron wouldn't do things out of spite. That assumption is what got them into their fight in the first place. He looked at Trunks, who had already been staring at him.

"I'm sorry," the older of the two began. "I should've told you sooner but—"

Goten cut him off. "How is she?" he interrupted.

Trunks blinked, unsure of _which_ she they were talking about. He guessed, "She's fine now..." The Brief man scratched his head. "Be easy on her, alright? She was just—" he paused, "... _scared_. Sometimes fear overpowers all security we have, and we exaggerate the simplest things into big messes we don't think we could get out of. She loves you and your opinion is important to her."

He turned his head, but the sight of Goten made him upset. He looked lost—he wouldn't doubt if he felt it too. Trunks watched as he walked towards the door before turning to him.

"I'm going to go think. Don't stay up because of me," he opened up the door and then stopped again. "I'll be fine, but Trunks?" he turned away.

"What is it, Goten?" asked questioned man. He blinked.

"I don't like the idea of you dating my niece." The older man's brows furrowed. However, Goten remained indifferent. "One of you is going to get hurt and I'm positive I won't be there for you if it's her."

" _Fantastic,_ " he said sarcastically, zipping up back his empty suitcase. He tucked it underneath the bed as he kicked off his shoes.

A small smile actually came on the sadden man's lips, even if it was for a moment. "Earlier, she told me she could do worse, but you and I both know she could do better. I would be an idiot to deny her anything she wants though."

Trunks sat the edge of the bed, eyeing the man by the door. Over the course of their friendship, they have had many conversations. At first, the sweet Goten had looked up to him, constantly asking questions to fulfill his wonders of the world. Trunks always had an answer of course, whether they were right or wrong. It didn't matter. He just was able to keep talking to comfort them both. As they've gotten older though, it seemed that _he_ was the one with curiosities as the younger was the one who knew what to say. Now didn't seem like an exception to that.

He wanted to ask why to so many things. _Why_ was he so against them? _Why_ wouldn't he stop Pan from being with him? _Why_ was he leaving instead wanting to talk to him? _Why_ was the change in their friendship making him so uneasy?

Trunks couldn't mutter even a single syllable though. He wouldn't.

"Don't wait up for me. I just need to clear my head," was the last thing Goten said before exiting the room. He heard the lamp being turned off behind the door, sighing in relief. Trunks wouldn't go after him and hound him with questions. He didn't know what to tell him anymore.

He looked up to the ceiling as if he could find an answer there. He had been so upset with the _idea_ of Trunks and Pan, that he became completely forgetful of his own hypocritical misdeed. How could he even attempt to tell his best friend to back off when only a few summers ago, he sought comfort with someone just as close and precious to Trunks? He had already messed things up with Marron for the time being. He didn't want to alienate somebody else.

The man with messy locks made way, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. The lounge may have been a fairly pricey resort, but there was still some setbacks being on such a high peak. The hallways were lit with candles, and they didn't use any electricity at night to conserve it for the busy days. He was shivering a bit underneath his sweatpants and wool sweater.

Goten walked out to the lobby, focusing on the lit fireplace instead of the familiar silhouette that sat beside it. He sat down, rubbing his hands together and blowing his breath into the small hole created between them. The fire brought some warmth to some of his body, but not much.

She had been watching the flames dance from the stone pit when he disturbed her concentration. Even though she sensed him coming, she was still astonished at seeing him alone like this. They hadn't spent much time together since their day of shopping nearly a month before.

When he caught sight of her, her cheeks flushed into a rose color. She brushed her cerulean hair from her face as he stumbled beside her, still warming up his cold hands.

"Gote—"

He stopped her with a simple look, one that she was so unused to. It almost felt like disdain—no, that wasn't it. It was something she seen before. He was hurt, and not in a physical pain.

Bra turned away after staring for so long, bringing her knees up to her chin. Her voice began to shrink. "I'm sorry," she spoke softly. "You must have came here to think. You don't have to tell me what's on your mind. I came here to clear my head too."

They sat in silence as the light began to wither into ashes. Goten got up to throw in the provided wood into the heat and returned to his seat. They watched as it became engulfed by the reds and yellows. Though sitting still allowed them to bask in the some warmth, there was a cold emptiness only two people could carry. She, longing for someone who didn't belong to her, and he, growing a distance in his heart for what was his. Between somewhere and everywhere, they both lost something they weren't quiet sure they could lose.

Goten perched his head to the side, almost against her shoulder. He was so close that she could feel his presence on her skin. She remembered the conversation she had with her father once—how all living things were made of energy. As warriors, they had a firm grasp on theirs, only emitting what they pleased and chose.

Controlling ki was something taught to all of them at a young age. Though they were human from their mothers, the blood from their fathers granted them the gift to harbor great power. Unbelievable brute strength, bulletproof skin, and speed so fast they were practically invisible to the naked eye—those were just the _gist_ of it. They had to learn how to be gentle not to interact with their families, but with their world, one that had been at peace since she was born.

It was important as not as fighters, but as the legacies of a proud warrior race, to be able to mask their true powers. They were living on a planet, foreign to their ancestors, where the slightest cackling caused people to run in fear and scream for their lives. It was only fair they respect that, and stepped forward to protect those who couldn't do so themselves. Controlling their ki was only cautionary so they could live in tranquility, undisturbed or untroubled with the burden that technically they had the potential to be monsters.

However, there were times when energy naturally flowed out of them without their permission. It was usually in small things like laughs between friends and when one was in a heavy sleep—it simply spilled out when a warrior wasn't thinking, such as in this moment.

He was only a few inches away from her, but she felt him like he had buried his entire cheek on her bare skin. It was a warming sensation that teased the rest of her. Bra sighed. Somewhere between lust and lost, there she stood. Her feelings for him had not changed, but he wasn't hers to have. Sharing this moment only reminded her of how wrong she felt, but yet she wasn't ready to return to her room. She only sat with him by a lit fireplace.

Goten looked up, hearing her loud long breath. He blinked. "Is everything alright?" he asked, almost in a robotic monotone. She refrained from squinting at his unusual way of talking, but more so because she was thinking of something else. She shouldn't be here with him like this. She was afraid of what she would do if he gave her the opportunity.

He asked again before they fell into another silence. Bra waited until he sat up properly again to move away a bit. She wasn't usually shy, but he made her feel uneasy. She didn't like the person she would become if he were to move closer to her. It wasn't in her nature to be so disrespectful of anything, but she wanted him, and the boundary she would have to cross felt blurred.

"I'm guessing you don't really want to be near me because of what's going on with me and Marron," he finally spoke up, much to her surprise. She turned her head to see him blankly staring at the flames dancing. "I don't get what's wrong with me. I wanted to get married so much, but all I do is screw it up. It's starting to feel like I'm sabotaging myself."

Her stomach twisted. He wasn't aware of it, but she wanted to ruin him too. Probably even more than he was thinking of himself.

"No... I'm sorry," she added. "I didn't know about anything going on. I just came here to think." She paused, unsure if she even wanted to ask, but did so because it was right. "Would you like to talk about it?"

He felt at a bind. _How do I talk to you about you?_ he thought. He fidgeted with his fingers before speaking up. "No, not really," he finally said. "But Bra, um, I was wondering..."

"What is it?" she asked.

"The summer where you and I... _you know_. Do you ever think about it?" He felt embarrassed to ask such a thing. He also felt duplicitous—was it really fair for him to even be with her like this? He had made her a part of his wedding party— _a wedding with somebody else_ —and he was now questioning if she considered their brief romance. Nonetheless, Marron had chosen to stay with Pan for the night. What was he doing still here?

She hesitated, knowing her truth. "I haven't put much thought into it," she lied. "You went to go after Marron, and that was it. Whatever was there stopped."

"Oh," was the only thing he could say. Everything else revealed more than he wanted to admit for now. The silence succumbed them again, only for a small moment.

Bra looked down, damning her curiosity in her mind.

"Goten?"

"Yeah?" he responded.

"Do you think about me... I mean, the same way as that summer?" She paused, waiting for his answer. Then she decided she did not want to know it. "I mean, um, I assume you don't considering I'm your best man and all," her laugh felt forced. It was a joke trying to mask her true wonders.

Goten turned away, thinking of the implications if he told the truth. Though, he wasn't better off with a lie either. The former was the logical option, he supposed. "A couple of times," he admitted.

She looked at him. "Then do you mind if I ask you something else?"

"I guess," he shrugged.

"If Marron didn't come back, what would have that meant for you and me?"

He turned to find her already gazing at him. He had thought about it a few times— _how different would his life be if she didn't_ —but he always stopped himself from wondering any further. It was wrong. He chose Marron and that was the decision he was committed to.

Though now, his mind continued to think of the answer. He felt off balanced. There was a line they were crossing now, and he just...

"I guess by now..." he took a second to take a breath. He only wanted to dig himself deeper. "I guess by now, you would've been the one I proposed to," he answered.

The silence came between them again.

Only, words never left for the rest of their time together as their lips met.

* * *

\- _FIVE MINUTES BEFORE IN PAN'S ROOM_ -

"I-I can't believe... _you!_ _And Trunks!_ " Marron slurred, rolling around the bed to straighten her dizzy mind. With the empty miniature bottles beside her, he friend only sighed. The sober picked off the vodka shots, throwing them to the floor before tucking in the older woman. A slight smile came on her lips when staring at the cashmere blanket she forgot to give back.

"I think you're drunk," Pan guessed, stating the obvious. She was happy that Marron was over being upset, but she more or less hoped it wasn't at the expense of an overpriced minibar. That had been what she wanted to do with Trunks. Their bill wasn't going to take a break, after all.

"Ohh no, you don't!" the blonde protested under the covers. "You haven't even told me how it happened! Have you—" _Hiccup_. "Wha-what's his situation down there? Does the carpet match the—" _Hiccup._ "—drapes?"

The younger of the two blushed, rolling her eyes and maybe fluffing Marron's pillow a little too roughly. She had a peek a month ago at the engagement party, but they weren't even—Marron drank the minibar, she remembered. Alcohol tended to make her more verbal than what her nervousness did. She had to keep level-headed.

"You're the one who grew up with him. You didn't notice his happy trail when you guys went swimming or something?" she tried to play off.

"So you've seen it!" the older gasped with a little too much excitement. "I was always—" She hiccuped again and Pan waited until she held her breath to be rid of her small spasms. Marron then began to squint, "How _big_ is it? Because even though Vegeta is short, you can see a lot with those spandex body suits and I mean, if Saiyans were so evolved—"

" _Marron_ ," Pan tried to ignore. The blonde only flashed her an innocent _did-I-say-something-wrong_ look. She rolled her eyes, figuring why her friend and uncle were so good together. She couldn't even remain upset when they pulled such a face! She sighed again, "Just get some sleep. You're rambling."

Marron apologized before coming up with an idea. Pan's eyes only widen as she sat up and almost slammed her head into her face. "You should go surprise him!" the blonde said with a matching enthusiasm.

"Marron! You almost hit me!" Pan blushed. Her friend only remained, adding an eyebrow wiggle. "Mare, I'm not going to leave you. You're drunk, and there's a shelf in the minibar I'm scared you going to touch!"

The older only sighed, "Take it from me, Pan! You want twenty-something years with somebody? It's the little effort that matters! You think I made Tien teach me how to fly because I wanted to be a bird? No! I was a little girl with a crush and wanted to sneak out to visit him!"

"Your decision making is still questionable!" she rebutted.

"I'm being _serious_ ," Marron said, retreating back underneath the sheets. "Goten's probably off doing some thinking anyway. This is probably your best chance to go make it up to him now! If you don't go for yourself, then go for me. I mean, I practically stuffed my face with those expensive cashews anyway. It's only fair!"

"Cashews are hardly any reason to desert my friend," Pan argued again.

The blonde only rolled her eyes. "You're so proud, Panny. I hope you know that love isn't about pride. Sometimes you have to look a fool to show you care. Look at me! Goten and I just gave each other the worst news ever to each other, and am I upset? No! Even though I have every right to be!

"It sounds stupid, and I may look like a moron to you for forgiving him—but that doesn't even matter. We weren't even together at the time, and I only thought he was suffering like I was without him. I can't be upset when I'm the one who left without talking about what that meant. Kami, even I'm starting to think _I'm_ the one who's guilty here. We ended up getting engaged anyway, so really what's the point of holding a grudge on the past? I have enough humility to admit I messed up too. But _whatever_.

"Point is, you should go see him. Who cares about your ego? Right? Right. Love makes you look like a fool, and that's okay because we _should_ be fools when it comes to people we care about. It only means we're comfortable enough to not be afraid of our worst parts being rejected. You're lucky, you know," she finished, staring blankly at the ceiling. She finally talked herself to sleep, and she admitted it was kind of nice to go to bed with a clear head.

"Marron..." the younger spoke softly, watching her. She felt like the blonde was more talking to herself than she ever was her. Love was strange, she supposed.

With her eyes closed, the older smiled. "It's not that big of a deal. I know how I sound, and I'm fine with it. I rather be this way because it makes me feel fearless, you know? Even now when I probably sound like an idiot, I feel like anything is possible. Go visit him, I won't mind."

Pan opened her mouth to speak, but then retreated.

She took a second to pause. _Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all_ , she thought. The younger looked at the older, waiting to feel her ki at rest. She wouldn't go unless she knew for sure she was asleep. Not that she was embarrassed or anything—she just didn't worry while she was gone for a second. _Right? Right_ , she concluded.

She lifted herself off the bed quietly, tiptoeing to fetch her jacket before flying to the door. Unbeknownst to her, the blonde kept an eye open to watch her leave before smiling to herself.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Pan muttered under her breath. She wondered how Trunks would even react with her surprising him so late?

Pan rolled her eyes. She knew _exactly_ how he would act. First, he would wonder why she was there and then understand why. Then, he would say something cocky, making whatever romantic effort she put in as a joke. _Damn it! You doofus_ , she huffed to herself, cursing him. Still, she wanted to see him anyway. Maybe they could raid the minibar in their room.

With a determined mind, she floated to the opposite side of the lounge. Bra may have been the one pulling pranks this summer, but she had something devious in mind. One that involved a thick, black marker and—

Pan stopped suddenly, hearing two familiar voices talking to each other. Curious, she looked past her shoulder to see her best friend and her uncle, sitting close beside each other. She hid behind a lumber beam, suppressing her ki until it was practically nonexistent. What were they even doing?

 _"If Marron didn't come back, what would have that meant for you and me?" Bra asked._

 _Goten answered, "I guess by now... I guess by now, you would've been the one I proposed to."_

The girl with raven strands gasped, quickly moving her hand to conceal her sound. A knot began to tighten in her gut. She hid her head back until she noticed a silence. Pan tilted her head back to look.

She gulped. Now they were _kissing_.

With hate now filling her, Pan rapidly jumped up and flew back to her room as fast as she possible. She didn't even notice that her speed caused all the candles in the hallway to be put out. She was too upset to care. As she fumbled with her room key, she didn't understand why she was the one being emotional! Why was she so disappointed!

 _How dare they?_ She slammed the door, forgetting her strength and waking up her friend who had been asleep. _How dare they! How dare they! HOW DARE THE_ —

"Pan? Are you..." Marron yawned, catching the attention of her caught friend. "Why are you back so soon?"

She froze in somber.

* * *

 **A/N** : I'm not a fan of cliffhangers, but this was a nice place to leave off. I didn't want dive in too much of what Pan does because third part of this update will reveal that as they stumble on their second dragon ball! Also, who's on the hunt too? What's up with this cheesy 80's rock music and neon lights?!

Thank you so much for the reviews and keeping up with the story! Here's a cheat sheet of the new characters for Pan's arc. Who are they? What can they do? And what do you mean she has to _die_ in order to meet them?

 _ **Fadel**_ —from the center of the universe, where the galactic justice system resides. He's honorable, diligent, and will not put up with nonsense. He was meant to join his family of judges under the work of the King of Everything before his timely death, proving that he deserved such a role. However, he was not always so serious. Once, he gave into his childish infatuation and pursued someone not in the same prestige. It was long ago though, before he met the other three.

 _ **Kaje**_ —native of the planet Ravi in the eastern quadrant. She was the heir to the warrior throne, not by blood but by the fact she obliterated a hundred of the first-class warriors up for the same title. She's a little haughty and hot headed, but she's a brilliant fighter. In fact, she is one of the best. She's fearless, rough on every edge, but she's also, like her Saiyan counterparts, very proud. The difference between her and those monkeys was that Frieza was meant to answer to _her_.

 _ **Zeeko**_ —a healer from the southern part of the universe, Luna. He didn't hold a title nor is he as tough as he appears to be, but he is not to be underestimated. Being a healer meant exhausting and devastating training to prove he was worthy of the power. He was still young when he passed away, carrying over some youthful impatience and enough attitude to keep up with the likes of Kaje. Nonetheless, he wears his heart on his sleeve and has a lot to learn.

 _ **Yeeva**_ —the quiet stoic from the West, a soul-half to Kaje. She remains a mystery to the others, but knows almost all. She has the gift of sight, as she was birth from a flower planted by a sorceress of fortunes. She's reserved and often indifferent. Her voice, though it may be soft, is respected by the others. However, Kaje finds her a burden at times since she doesn't do much. Fadel thinks its unwise to trivialize her unknown skills. Zeeko just knows she likes to eat sweets.

And that's about it! I hope you've enjoyed this story and continue reading. Thanks for the reviews! We'll get back to the routine of replies after the next chapter!


	10. Part I - Chapter 10

**A/N** : Rated M under the ' _Room 98_ ' subheading!

 **Disclaimer** : Again, I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything related to the franchise.

\- _**CHAPTER 10**_ -

 _"Pan, are you—why are you back so soon?" Marron yawned into the back of her hand, staring at the breathless girl at her door._

 _She froze, unsure what to say._

 _..._

"Pan?" Marron asked again, more alert now. "Did something happen?" Her face was now riddled with concern, feeling uneasy at the stressed look on her friend's mug. The blonde tucked a strand behind her ear, waiting for some kind of answer. _Had her idea been a bad one?_ She felt guilty, if so.

The girl in question paused, biting her lip. She opened up her mouth to speak, but unintentionally shut it. Pan could feel herself hesitating for the truth. She was damning herself internally. Why was she holding back? Was she really choosing a side here! If so, then whose— _Bra's? Goten's? The good? Bad?_ Could she keep such a thing from Marron, could she? Was it even hers to tell? What kind of person was she if she lied?

And what if she didn't?

 _Too many questions, not enough answers,_ she cursed to herself. _Shit_. _Shit. Shit. Shit._ _Shit, shit, shit, shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit_ —why couldn't she get it out? Her best friend was making out with her uncle, who's engaged to her other best friend, who is also standing right in front of her and staring at her like a complete— _shit_.

Marron raised a brow, coughing again and feeling awkward from the long silence. Her mind only scrambled with the possibilities of things going wrong. Maybe she overestimated Pan's confidence, or maybe it was Trunks. He was a pretty cocky person himself, and maybe he didn't like directness from the girls he dated. Then again, if he did, Pan was sure a hell of pick for any kind of passiveness. _Don't like forces repel?_ she rambled in her thoughts. She didn't know! She taught history, not science!

Finally, a _thud_ stopped both their internal monologues. Marron looked up to see a spilled pencil jar pooling at Pan's feet. The younger of two blushed, forgetting that her ki was controlled by her emotions. She must've released a bit while she was thinking. At least, she didn't blow anything up. The bill was already high with the emptied mini-bar.

"I'm—" Pan looked around, grabbing the nearest thing to her: a pen. She haphazardly tidied up the mess of writing utensils before giving a half-smile, hoping her small blunder wouldn't be obvious. "— _uh_ , I just needed something to write with! I'll be back. Just, um, go back asleep," she insisted. Before she could be questioned any further, the quarter Saiyan left the room, closing the door behind her.

* * *

\- _THE_ _NEXT_ _MORNING_ -

Trunks scratched his nose, feeling something paper-like itching his bridge. When he opened his eyes, he indeed found something paper-like. A note, to be specific. He sat up from his bed, looking over to the unslept side and regrettably sighing. Maybe he should've talked to Goten before he left last night. That would've been the appropriate thing to do instead of just falling asleep.

He leaned back against the headboard, glancing over to the brightly lit snow before unfolding the stationery in his hands. It read:

 _hey prince_ —  
 _came to your room obviously. you fast asleep. i in a hurry. note should suffice until i get back. gonna head to W.C. w/ bra. nothing serious. girl things. don't question. snowball fight #2 when i get back?_ — _p  
_ _(p.s_ — _fyi, goten w/ uub. check marron. me pay for minibar & most _important _thing: come back 2 room 98)_

The next-in-line Saiyan Prince snorted, wondering how many more bad grammar notes from Pan he'll receive in the future and smiling at the emphasis on 'important'. The idea was both endearing and intriguing to his curious mind.

He squinted at additive, wondering if she naturally wrote this messy or if she partook in emptying the minibar with Marron. She was more of a fighter than a writer, he supposed. Regardless, he only folded it back and reached over to the floor to tuck the note in his suitcase. Trunks then rolled out of bed, threw on a moss-green sweater and decided to get some coffee. He hadn't had a day of solitude in a long while.

* * *

 _\- GRAVITY ROOM/WEST CITY -_

The _real_ Saiyan Prince sat with a brood, tapping his agitated fingers against his sharp jaw and sighing heavily. Not only did his student and child returned the night before, for a so-called 'brief' visit, they took over his second favorite room and interrupted his summer workout schedule. He parked his bottom on the floor beside the large metal door, cursing Bulma for making it soundproof. He couldn't even see what was happening because Bra disabled the cameras!

Bulma stretched her arms, emerging from her small garage where she worked on her more larger projects, and walking down her familiar hallway. Since her son was away still, she had taken back the presidential office she once adored, and from time to time, sat back at the head of table in board meetings, business pitches, and endless PowerPoints. _Oh, she hated those_. She couldn't be away from her real office, however. Thankfully, she had three assistants at her beck and call, allowing Ms. Olive some vacation time too.

She heard familiar footsteps trailing not so far behind, but didn't bother to halt. What caught her attention was her husband— _though not different from his usual face_ —sulking in his blue spandex suit outside of _his_ office.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes.

If he even _thought_ to mess up the Gravity Room again, when she worked so hard to make it apart of their home so he didn't have to walk outside in the summer heat, then he had another thing coming!

" _Vegeta_ ," he heard, as if he needed another reason to be irritated. His gazed reached the owner of the voice, letting out a sigh and reading her thoughts exactly. After being with someone for so long, it was not hard to figure out why she was upset.

"I didn't break it," he said simply. His infamous vein throbbed as he tried to remain his cool. " _Your_ daughter and _her_ friend have been in there since last night, and Kami knows why! Wasting my time like this," he sneered under this breath. His emphasis on possessive pronouns didn't go unnoticed. He always did that, blaming her for things when he was even mildly upset. She recalled the incident of _her_ refrigerator being 'broken' because somehow he misplaced a can of soda.

Bulma opened her mouth to retaliate, and then stopped to comprehend the information being passed to her. Her head perked up in curiosity. "What are the girls doing back so soon?" she turned her head, as if she could see past their metal walls. "Is Trunks here too?"

The soreness disappeared from his face as it did her tone. She always had a way of doing that, changing his mood to match hers. He let out a defeated sigh, actually missing his home being filled with loud children running about. They weren't children anymore, granted, but being Bulma's children, they were loud. With his in-laws now dead, their colossal space only seemed to grow silent during the day. It wasn't an enjoyable sound, even if he would never admit it.

"I didn't see him," he answered as she crashed beside him, aligning her posture with his. Bulma let out a sigh before laying her head on his shoulder, causing him to blush. After all this time, she still managed to make him feel like—well to be fair, he didn't have a proper word. It was just _strange_. He didn't mind strange, but it always caught him off guard. He spoke lower, knowing there was no point of yelling if she was this close. "And to answer your question, I have no idea what they're doing back. They locked me out and left me a note saying that they were using it for the day."

" _I see,_ " she whispered, warming up his skin with her breath. The answer only made Bulma caress his shoulder even more, deepening the crimson across his face. "Well, I hope they stay for a bit and catch us up with everything going on. Are you just going to wait here the entire time?"

He turned his head, not answering but rather grimacing at the ease he was feeling. Granted, he knew he wasn't in danger or needed to be on guard—he was far from anything serious, actually. He was at home, a fortress designed with the highest security measures, and he was beside his wife, a sometimes hot-headed but still gentle woman. After all, it was her kindness that invited him to live with her, to even begin a family together.

Still, his mind never aligned calmness with comfort. Times of peace made him anxious. He once lived as a danger to any form a life, destroying everything from the greatest foes to the smallest leaf on trees. He knew _exactly_ what was out there. Now, he had people to protect. He couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive for retribution.

Bulma stared at the man she married so late. After raising a teenaged son and the world ending a few times, it took them another two years to decidedly get hitched. For two admittedly fiery and feisty people, their stubborn love came slow and uneasy, with lots of learning and unlearning of what they knew in the past, and even a bit of themselves. Vegeta always surprised her, whether it be her own feelings or just him in general. However, knowing the face in his look now, she was pleasantly _not_ shocked. She refrained from questions, resting her head back on his shoulder.

They sat for a moment in silence. Finally, the steps following behind the respected scientist was now coming closer and stopping in front of them. There stood Shu, the anthropomorphic dog; Pilaf, the "monkey" or so her children called; and Mai, the woman who traded her combat boots for sneakers. (Bulma respected that she didn't feel right in heels). Finally reaching the age she first met them as a teenager, their now-boss felt a bit dumbfounded for not recognizing them sooner, having hosted them for years as they worked around her house for free meals and rooms.

Though, Bulma guessed, it was better to have them working as her assistants instead of chasing after the dragon balls. She couldn't imagine the type of trouble a few demi-Saiyans and trained human fighters would do if they bothered to try. At least, they made up for their past lives living with her and her family. She was not one to judge, after all.

"Everything is up to par at the office," Pilaf spoke proudly. He was always the one to take the lead, and liked when the Brief woman gave him supervising duties. Bulma nodded, rising from her seat and gaining an unamused stare from Vegeta as he noticed something _missing_ under her skirt.

Shu then added, "With Trunks gone, a few of the female interns have decidedly worked harder!" The other two with him looked at him as if he had two heads. Though after some time, Bulma seemed unaffected by his blunt commentary. The dog blushed, "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"No," Bulma encouraged, turning to her husband still on the floor. He looked away, and she refrained from smirking. Instead, she said, "Vegeta, leave the girls alone. They'll come out when they want to. I doubt they'd want to stay away from the trip for long."

" _Hmmph_ ," he muttered as he got up. Without another word, he turned away and walked in the opposite direction. She then mentally timed herself, knowing how long he would get a snack and return to their room for a short nap. This time she did smirk, plotting how little sleep he was going to get.

Mai raised an eyebrow at the devious look on the other woman's face. "Uh, Bulma?" she coughed.

Without a single word, the Brief woman turned and gestured for her assistants to follow, listing tasks she had as they headed into her other lab. Suddenly, a loud _crash_ stopped her, forcing everyone to run to the source of the noise.

Outside the Gravity Room, the metal bolted door was now shattered on the ground. Vegeta looked at his wife as the two laying against the scraps resorted to hair pulling. An empty brown canvas bag sprawled out beside them; a few senzu beans laid adjacent. "Somebody grab them!" Bulma yelled, earning a haste of unwillingness.

Vegeta held onto his daughter as Mai, Shu, and Pilaf struggled to grab onto Pan. Bulma rushed into the room, sighing in relief to find only the door broken. However, seeing that the last setting for the GR had been 760G, she could only thank something like artificial gravity for slowing them down. She walked back outside, but only found a group of grimaces and gnashing teeth.

"What's the matter with you two!" Vegeta barked, pulling hold onto Bra with more effort than he presumed. Though he was impressed with her strength, he was not one to excuse her immature behavior. At least, Pan stopped giving the other three a difficult time. His daughter was still putting up a fight.

Bra then spat, hitting the other girl in the eye. In another moment, Vegeta found himself dodging fists as all three stumbled onto the ground.

Pan pounded onto the floor, losing her guard. Before she could make another move, Bra swung and decked her in the jaw. It wasn't until two large shadows caught her that she finally stopped.

Goku and Piccolo each grabbed a part of Pan's shoulders as Vegeta helped his daughter up. All three men held confused expressions. The last fight they had to break up between Bra and Pan was when they were _toddlers_ —and even then, all of them only froze at the strange sight. They weren't sure what another one would even mean.

The usually cheerful Goku changed his happy grin to a serious glare. "We sensed something wrong, but this isn't what we expected," he spoke, allowing the four behind him to catch up. Before anyone could say something else, Bulma came between the two and slapped both girls, getting them out of their trance of anger and earning wide eyes from everyone around them.

Bulma tapped an impatient foot. "Is anyone going to explain to me what's going on here?" she asked, directing the question to the two girls turning away. " _Well?_ "

Bra remained quiet, not wanting to reveal the real reason they were in there.

The night before, things had gotten out of hand. She found herself leading Goten back to her room, completely careless of what consequences ensued. Though, it wasn't at much protest from him. It all happened fast. Then, before another line was crossed, however, Pan had appeared and pushed her to the ground. The older girl only _glared_ at her uncle before he retreated inside the room, closing the door immediately behind him and abandoning her! There, Pan sat on top of her in the hallway, telling her to get up.

She couldn't even protest as the older one dragged her to another hallway, told her to wait outside as she went in for few minutes, and then transmitted them both in front of the Gravity Room. "I'm so disappointed in you!" was what began their verbal spout. Bra couldn't help but feel defensive as her so-called best friend was being so _mean_ to her—and, well, she _may_ have let it slip that Pan was only _one_ of her brother's latest conquests. It was a poor choice of words, but neither of them were letting up.

That's when the punches began.

Pan furrowed her brows, hating that she was born first. By default, everyone looked to her for some sort of answer. She only sighed, refraining from rolling her eyes like a teenager full of angst. They were adults now, after all. "It was nothing," she said, surprising the other. "We were training, and we got too into it. Sorry for damaging the room, Bulma."

"Yeah. Sorry, Mom," Bra quickly muttered afterwards, as she didn't want to be questioned either. The men let go of the girls, dropping them to the floor and watching them dust off their clothes. The younger girl wiped the blood from her lips as the older counted the holes in her gi. They were ignoring each other now, but at least they weren't fighting anymore.

Bulma sighed, putting on the best smile she could. "Well, you two might as well clean up so we could have lunch together! I want to know all the trouble you six are getting into," she chuckled, earning bewildered looks from the rest of the group. "We could go out and try this new place I—"

"Sorry, Bulma," Pan interrupted. Bra stared at her, wondering what was going on in her head. She wasn't used to being in a fight with Pan, and it seemed like the other girl was just as clueless on how to make it better. "I was going to go check on my Grandpa Satan, and then pick up food for Trunks to make up for today. I don't want to keep him waiting. We were going to head back after we used the room."

 _At least she said 'we'_ , Bra supposed. Though, admittedly, that didn't make her feel so united.

Vegeta then let out a snort, causing everyone to turn their heads. "So the boy actually did it?" he asked his student. Pan rolled her eyes as a blush flushed her cheeks. However, that only egged on the old man's amusement.

Bulma squinted, darting her eyes between her husband and his prime student. She was suspicious. She retorted, "The last time I heard that weird laugh, you were planning to take over the universe because you thought Goku and Frieza died together on Namek!"

"I remember that," Piccolo commented in his husked voice.

Vegeta's chuckle stopped. "Don't bring that up!" he snapped, earning a contagious giggle from the man mentioned. There was always something about Goku's laugh that made everything so lighthearted, even the two hybrid girls were smiling a bit. Vegeta then finished his words,"If you _must_ know, the girl is romantically involved with the boy." He then let out a snort, turning to his daughter, "I'm assuming _this_ fight is simply welcoming her to the family."

Bra only looked away, unresponsive to her father. She wasn't in the mood to talk. In fact, she wasn't in the mood to do much of anything. The youngest Brief heiress turned to her mother and sighed, "If it's alright with you, I'm just going to head back to the others."

Bulma snapped her head so fast; it almost looked like her neck was going to break. "Wait, no!" the older Brief woman argued. "You two can't just drop this on me and leave again! How the heck did _Prince Badman_ know and not me!"

"I only wore that shirt once!" scoffed the alleged _Prince Badman_ , folding his arms. Piccolo and Goku refrained from laughing, recalling the bubblegum pink shirt Vegeta once donned.

He was ignored by his girls, however. " _Mom_ , if you want to know about Pan and Trunks, then Pan can tell you all about it. There's really no point of me staying," Bra heaved, frowning a bit.

Pan then shrugged, a disinterested look on her face. "There's not much to say. I mean, who knows? I just might be _one_ of his latest conquests. After all, it's a modern age. _Monogamy_ isn't a thing," she knew the last part was meant to purposely hurt Bra, but she regretted it once it left her lips. Anger never suited her, and she always spouted things she never meant. However, her pride was telling her not to apologize. Not now.

She looked to her so-called best friend, ignoring all the curious looks surrounding them. No point was made today, and they both knew it.

* * *

- _ROOM 98_ -

Trunks unbuckled his boots and kicked them away from his reclaimed mattress. After unpacking yet again, he was glad to be back in his original room, the one he shared with Pan. Marron had agreed to give it back in exchange for trading rooms with Uub. She wasn't ready to be back with Goten, and Trunks could understand why—he had spent the whole day avoiding the both of them!

Thankfully, Marron only supposed that Goten needed some time and respected that. Hungover and tired, she wasn't in the mood to start any arguments with anybody. She gladly gave Trunks back the room key as long as he arranged everything himself. Uub didn't mind bunking with Goten, and they all supposed it was for the best. With Bra, Marron could still have much needed girl-talk and Trunks wouldn't have to spend another night alone.

The cold was putting everyone in a bad head space, and it made him pout. He always loved the snow, especially when he wasn't in the city. With the chaos that came from being a Brief, as well as being the son of Vegeta, he grew attached to the calm atmosphere. No paparazzi. No fiery parents debating. No explosions from labs, or beeping telephones from offices. It was all calm. Serene, even.

All of this nonsense in fighting wasn't supposed to be here. It would've been nice to sit down and have dinner with everyone else, their little family of next generation protectors. Unlike their parents and older friends, with a couple of exceptions, they were birthed to be together. They didn't have to go out of their way to find each other, nor did they ever leave one truly alone.

He let out a sigh, wishing _right now_ was one of those times for that sentence to be completely true. He was a bit worried of everyone's whereabouts.

The Brief man stretched his long arms, wiggling out of his moss-green sweater. He had spent his morning at the cafe, and then went snowboarding all afternoon. He attempted to call Pan, but stopped once he saw her cellphone on the nightstand. He should've expected that. At least, she left him a note from earlier.

He fell back on the bed with his eyes shut, only widening them as she materialized on top of him. _What impeccable timing_ , he refrained from snorting. The Satan-Son hybrid only gave him a small wave, settling into her new seat. "Hello," she smiled.

"H-hey, yourself," he stammered. He then thought to ask the most logical thing, "So, where's my sister?"

Pan let out a sigh.

"Flying back by herself. We're in a fight and I don't want to talk about it," she said shortly. As she pulled on the knot that held the orange fabric together, he noticed the various burned holes and scratches all over her arms. He raised an eyebrow, but she only shut him down. "I told everyone I was going to visit my Grandpa Satan, but what do you know? He and Buu are somewhere tropical and cannot be reached at the moment. Your mom is definitely telling my parents we're together, so I suggest you turn off your phone."

He complied, unsure of what was coming over her, but still holding the power button down before tossing his cellphone aside. When he looked back, she was sliding off her top from her shoulders, uncovering her bare chest to him. He tried to cross his legs at the sudden blood rush he felt, but was stopped. Pan leaned back, allowing him a full view as she held down his thighs.

Trunks opened up his mouth to inquire what exactly was happening, but she only held her ground—or, well, his legs.

"Pan, are you sure you're alright?" he attempted to ask. The girl in question leaned forward wordlessly, gliding her hand to his belt buckle, tugging at the leather strap before dragging her tongue on his neck. He was still wearing a thin t-shirt, but he could feel her erected nipples teasing him as they slid down in the same direction her mouth went.

Trunks tried to ask again, but she only blew on her wet trail, causing him to groan at the sensation. She felt his hips buckle as her hand went lower and squeezed the tightening in his jeans. He let out a gasp, unused to her playing with him in such a way.

Satisfied with the noises he made, Pan planted a hard kiss against his lips before abruptly stopping. Literally. She rolled off of him and didn't even attempt at an explanation. She felt his gaze, and only smirked over her shoulder as she stood beside the bed. He wasn't even trying to hide his growing bulge, and that made her laugh. "Here I thought you were trying to be a gentleman and ask me if I was doing fine," she joked, kicking off her shoes and socks.

"I could do both," he quickly said, watching her undress. If she didn't want to talk, then he was fine with giving her whatever she wanted. Of course, that meant he was going to get his too. Trunks could feel himself getting cocky now, but Pan didn't laugh or respond with her usual witty remark.

"I don't think I want to hear you talk," she said fearlessly, letting gravity finish the job of pooling her outfit at her feet. With her skin now unhidden, he couldn't help being in awe of the flesh and all of its detail. Between the dangerous curves at her edges and the rough trail down her fragile spine, he only felt lost, trying to map out where he wanted to begin first. The scratches etched around her arms and shoulders, the red and purple spots splattered across the soft canvas, the dimples creating craters at the small of her back—there was so much to admire.

He had never been so fascinated at such a figure. How smooth everything seem to connect, and how surreal she seemed. Everything about her shape screamed delicate, but everything about her skin whispered the opposite. She was a fighter, after all. A beautifully stubborn and annoyingly great one, at that. If he wanted to see her weak, she wasn't going to let it be easy—but _nothing_ rushed his blood more than the mere thought of it.

She broke their glance, refusing herself to get back on top of him. A familiar feeling of pride was beginning to consume her, needing to prove something she wasn't sure was even necessary. If she was so secure, then why did a single word irk her so much? Nonetheless, she wanted to know with certainty. Whether or not he knew he was being tested didn't matter. She wasn't a simple _conquest_ , and he was going to prove it.

The fighter sat at the bed opposite to his, sitting at the edge and crossing her legs. She leaned back to prop herself on her elbows and only stared, waiting for his move. She watched as he got up, pulled his undershirt over his head and let his pants dropped. With an unimpressed look, she cocked her head and stared up at him. When he attempted to climb on top of her, she pressed her foot against his chest, shaking her head slightly.

"Don't be hasty," she stopped him. "If you want me to feel better, I want the first one on your tongue," she directed, lowering her leg back down. How audacious she was, being so brave and daring him like this. He cocked an upright smirk, adoring every ounce of ambition she had to get what she wanted.

He let out a snort. "So _bossy,_ " he commented, complying to her whims yet again.

Trunks dropped to his knees, spreading her thighs and dragging her closer to the edge. He alternated his kisses, hovering over the dampened strip she still had on and watching her watch him. She was so cool, despite what her body told him. Luckily, he was a fighter too, and a brilliant one.

If she wanted to finish first on his tongue, he was going to see the anticipation on her face until he was in control again.

Trunks switched from soft pecks to teasing licks against the crease of her thighs. He was making it hard to refrain from simply grinding against his mouth. He was still watching her until his mouth hovered her slit. She could feel his eyelashes brushing against her thighs as his saliva mixed with her own wetness, turning her on even more. _What was it about a powerful man on his knees for her that made her so weak?_

He pressed hard against the cloth that she wished he tore off, before sliding a sneaky finger underneath to play with the throbbing nub of skin. She let out a tight breath as he ran his finger up and down, trying to find her most sensitive part with her moans. The faster they escaped her lips, the more pressure his finger gave in its strokes. But it still wasn't good enough.

He dragged her down lower, using the the palm of his hand to hold her with ease on her dripping core. He teased her opening with his touch and poked inside until she sat on his finger for him and his head leveled with the valley of her chest, amused at her gesture. "Is this it?" he teased, sliding in and out of her as his tongue grazed her salty skin. "You don't want to get more wet for me?"

She let out a laugh, "Ha, let's see if you could make me."

Determined, he flicked his tongue around her sensitive nipple as he played with her clit, matching the momentum as his finger pumped slowly. He then took in the mound to taste, bobbing his head accordingly, allowing her to feel the tug and pressure in a rhythm similar to the way she touched herself. Pan tried not to think of it too much, knowing her own body too well and how to bring herself to come. If he was good enough, maybe one of these days, she'd let him watch.

When he moved to the other breast, she could feel his satisfied chuckle from her moans. She felt a drip of saliva falling onto her stomach, leaving a coolness in its ghost as it trailed down to her hips. His thumb circled around faster, gaining momentum for every short breath she took. He added his free hand into play, fixating on what his mouth could not. "C'mon, give me a reason to taste you," he muttered, taking a sudden trip to her neck, nibbling and leaving marks.

Why he was taking his time was an enigma to her. She practically could _hear_ how wet she was as his fingers came out to tap at her opening, and she couldn't help but blush at the sound being created. He circling faster and faster, and she was tightening, trying to hold on to relief.

Then like what she had done earlier, he abruptly stopped his movements, letting her drop onto his thighs. Much to her dismay, of course. However, he was focused completely on something else.

He settled his elbows beside her, making sure they were face to face. With the hand that was glutinous of her own lust, he pressed a finger against her bottom lip, offering her a taste of herself. When she took in his middle finger into her mouth too, all he did was smirk at the impression she was leaving, making him curious of what else her mouth could play with the same way. He then licked the same finger before diving in her mouth with his tongue.

He couldn't wait. He had to kiss her again. Not only did he want to share, but he wanted to savor her in her own mouth too. _Kami, she was hot_. She knew it too, grinding her hips against him to tease him just as much. He liked that about her, might actually _love_ that about her. If he wasn't careful now, he'd never leave her.

They interlocked lips once more before before parting, panting at the mess they were already in at simple foreplay. Feeling impatient with his game, Pan pushed Trunks against his bed now, allowing him to use the mattress's edge as a pillow. As she rose from the ground, he helped her step out of her panties and watched her take a seat where she wanted him the most. She was glistening in front of his face, and it only made him more eager when she said, " _Please._ "

Trunks dabbed his tongue against her clit, using his hands to stop her from falling down. She was dripped onto his chin as he sucked and kissed and ran his tongue up and down her slit until she had to crash down to muffle out her moans. He brought her up higher, spreading her even more to expertly slide his tongue against her walls, and dragging the muscle in and out until she came onto his mouth. He refused to slow down, however. He was relentless until he actually felt her tighten against his taste.

He adjusted her on his shoulders before flipping them over completely on the bed. Using his fingers to part her lips, he ran his tongue as her stomach pulsated up and down at her panting. He used her own cream as a lubricant to pump his finger inside her again, adding another one as his mouth pulled away.

"I want you to fuck it," he directed, watching her tirelessly buck her hips against his hand. He made way back to her lips again, the ones he liked kissing. "Faster," he told her, moving his palm in sync. He curled his fingers, causing a shiver to leave her.

When she slowed down, he only picked up the pace, driving her mad. He placed a peck on her temple, telling her how good she was at handling him like this and reminding her this was only a start. The anticipation on her face to come again only made him slow down, torturing her with a tease she did not like.

"You like that, don't you?" she spoke up, causing him to smile. "You want to get me all hot and make me work for it."

"You're cuter when you're squirming," Trunks winked. "Plus, I want to make you feel better. Is that wrong of me?"

Pan shook her head. "No," she brought her lips closer to his. As their noses touch to break apart, she only smiled, whispering softly. "But you're fucking kidding me if you think I want the second one on your hand," she reached for a peck again. "Lips, _please._ "

He already found her hand rubbing herself when he trailed down again. He took out his fingers, replacing them with his tongue so she could finish the job herself. As she flicked a middle finger against the nub of her clit, he listened to her moan in erratic breaths at pleasuring herself. Trunks could help but do the same, reaching a hand down to stroke himself, matching the pace she was going as he watched.

There was no warning when she squirted onto his mouth, leaving him surprised at the sight and her completely unaware of her actions as she lifted her hips to her touch. He tried his best to take it in, but truthfully, he was debating whether it the result of his touches or her own. When she crashed back down onto the mattress, Pan let out an exhausting breath, remembering it had been some time since she had an orgasm like that.

A drop of sweat ran along her inner thigh as she raised her knees on top of the covers, feeling shy now, despite it all. Though the rest of her was beginning to cool from the cold air, her center was still throbbing. Less because she was still unsatisfied, more because she _still_ wanted him inside of her. She was a bit embarassed at wanting him so much, even when her legs were beginning to lose their feeling. It was almost surreal to yearn for a person this much.

" _Fuck_ ," she heard him curse, and she looked up to find Trunks dragging a finger along his chest. Her juices had spilled all over him, leaving trails from his jaw to his abdomen. His hair poked up in every direction, and her put-together man was now a disheveled boy. Right then, she let out a laugh into her hand.

He averted his gaze to the woman giggling to herself, and he shook his head. Now, she was being cute and that was simply unfair. How one person managed to be utterly alluring and that charming within minutes was just something else. As he crawled on top of her, the goosebumps against his arms poked out and the body heat they once shared began to dissipate. The snow blizzard against their windows _titter-tattered_ in a soft beat, matching their breaths.

"Want to get under the covers?" he asked, kissing her jaw.

"Definitely," she nodded.

Trunks stood up, allowing her to slide in first before crashing beside her. The mattress was so small that he laid on his side so she wouldn't fall off. They innocently made out as she reached for the lamp light to let the moon's brightness in. With their tired eyes, they rather be like this anyway.

His cerulean eyes reflected the light as her dark ones only seemed to absorb it. What came next was calm, moving at a pace that caused long seconds and short hours.

His forehead slid against hers as his thrusts became erratic. The longer they were intertwined, the less control he was beginning to have. Unfinished kisses turned into unfinished breaths into each other's throats. Their fingers gripped tighter, so nothing fell apart.

When it came to the last few seconds, he settled into the crook of her neck, mumbling curses as he was getting closer and closer to his edge. Her breathing became shorter and shorter against the drum of his ear until something escaped the both of them.

His, against her skin. Hers, on the sheets below.

By morning, they slept soundly. No one had to talk for a long while.

* * *

 _\- BACK AT CAPSULE CORP -_

The table was filled with wide eyes, dropped jaws, and furrowed eyebrows. There was one eye roll, but he was sitting on the counter to be noticed at the dinner table, anyway. Today, he had a nap and it was not interrupted. Instead, his house began to fill with guests he was hoping not to see until the next group gathering these people tended to have. Of course, his wife sat at the head of the table, nodding proudly at the latest gossip.

Well, he supposed it wasn't gossip if it was true.

"And can you believe Vegeta knew before any of us?!" the infamously cerulean-haired woman called out. He only focused on the food on his plate, holding his usually grumpy look. About earlier how he missed his house being filled with loud children? He took it back, all of it. Adults were worse.

Gohan held the only frown at the table. It was not that he disliked Trunks, or would ever be the one to decide what Pan wants (because his daughter would have an opinion or two on that, certainly). He made the decision long ago that when he wanted her life to be about choice, her choice, and that excluded what he wanted or thought because he also made the decision that he would raise her to always do what's right. So if this is what she wanted, he would be there to support her, regardless if she falls or living happily. That was the duty as a father.

However, he was grimacing at losing _more_ time with her. She was always a free bird, and many parents always admired her independence since she was a baby, even. He was always proud of her because he had done his job—but who's to say he was ever ready to let go? First came that gap year, then came that penthouse, and now she was dating a well-respected friend who he watched grow up, and had more than the necessarily ability to keep up with her free spirit.

He had done everything right, and now it made him miserable.

Videl shot a sympathetic look to her husband, knowing living in Pan's space every few days of the week did not help his yearn for her not to grow up. He was learning things about her that he never figured out, and it only reminded how much he missed her, that beloved child of his. She reached for his hand, gently squeezing it, and offering a smile. Gohan admitted it did help a bit.

Goku rubbed his chin thoughtfully before turning his head to his lifetime rival, even as their hairs now grayed. "Hey Vegeta, so when Trunks and Pan have a kid, who would get to train them? Me or you?" he asked with a mischievous grin, catching the other man's attention.

He scoffed, "Obviously me, Kakarot! I've trained both the girl and boy. It's only fair I train their offspring."

"What?! No! That's not fair! You already said you had both Pan and Trunks. I think I get the kid!" he rebutted with his unaged innocent eyes.

"You left to go train that reincarnation of Buu, so it's your fault you didn't train the girl! Honestly, it only makes sense," Vegeta now joined the table, taking the empty chair beside his wife.

A loud sigh filled the room, and everyone turned to Chichi. She didn't even bothered looking up at them. "I don't know why either of you are fighting about it. We'll all be dead before that kid could say 'kamehameha' anyway."

Vegeta's eyes only widen at the statement, not looking forward to death again, especially in this aging body. Goku, however, only seemed delighted at his wife's choice of words. "She said, 'kamehameha' wave! Meaning I get the kid, yes!" he shouted, yet Chichi only smiled at the sentiment. After so long, he has yet to grow out of his naivety, but she loved it. It kept her young.

Videl glanced at the time before sighing. "You two shouldn't be so sure of yourselves. I'm pretty sure Uncle Piccolo is going to outlive all of us. Special Beam Cannon, anyone?" she laughed, earning an uproar at the table.

* * *

 **A/N** : This chapter is actually a cut-off because after re-writing the final installment of this "weekend update," it turned from one day to two, then three, and then a couple of weeks later, which was not my intention ever! It's just all the process of writing. Sometimes you like something one day, and then you don't the next. As you guys know, usually I don't write smut so I was iffy about writing this chapter, but I actually kind of like it!

I didn't want to "resolve" anything just yet because I mean, I just said Pan has to die in order to meet the OC's in the last chapter so I figured let's do something lighthearted and a little nsfw! Plus, nothing that complicated is resolved that quickly. How boring would it been if I told you guys they make up and everything's alright? Wouldn't be much of a story, right! But yes, I'm rambling, anyway...

Thank you, **nataliagam** , **Nice Guest** , **tpan** , **Charismatic Beauty** , **LVR4Trunks-n-Vegeta** , **nimedhel09** , and other **Guests** , for reading and reviewing! Usually, I promise, I have more genuine responses but with the last three chapters all balled up together, I didn't really consider replying. Thank you so much for still keeping up with the story though and for your feedback! I love reading responses because it makes me considerate of what I want to include in the story and if I'm doing a good job! I appreciate every last one of you, and even those who don't review because that's not obligatory. I'm just thankful when you guys do!

Until next time?


	11. Part I - Chapter 11

**A/N** : Everything I want to say is at the bottom, but also there's a lot of cursing in this one. Also this is just a collection of drabbles I've liked from what I've written, so every section isn't too lengthy! I wanted to save the Goten/Marron confrontation and Pan/Bra's talk for next chapter!

 **Disclaimer** : Again, I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything related to the franchise.

\- _**CHAPTER 11**_ -

The smell of flowers were strong.

Sweet. Crisp. Tart. Intense. Disappointing.

It made him miss home, his real home. Waking up and realizing he was _here_ instead, only added to his groggy bewilderment of how he ended up in the garden.

He looked down to find a sticky mess spread across his thighs. His pants were to his ankles, and his skin was covered in dirt. He felt embarassed. How could he be so _dirty_ in such an innocent place? White flowers spread across the field, all in bloom and leaving a sylvan aroma in his nostrils—scratching at them, really. Zeeko wiped his cheek. His bronze skin only seemed to match the odd golden color of the ground.

He looked up, and the so-called "sun" mocked him. It made the petals dance, and the leaves on the stems stood so high, hardly wavering at any light wind. It was almost like they were proud. Thankful, even. Like living in this place was some kind of reward, some bargain with some higher power where they got to flourish and faced no consequences. Completely untouched, but never wilting. It should've been beautiful, but it only made him feel more, well, disappointed.

There was no warmth from it, like it was entirely for show. The brightness was there, and it glittered in its glow. He thought that maybe he couldn't just feel it. He didn't feel the frost when they were in the cold the other day. He almost felt jealous that the couple they saw were all bundled in thick cloths.

This place, wherever it was between the natural world and their universe, almost seemed glutinous in its wonderfulness, like it made up for some harsh truth. _The ironic truth_ , he guessed. Nothing could ever go wrong here—but that was just it, wasn't it?

Something _was_ wrong. They were _dead_.

Morbidly, and unfortunately, _dead_.

All of them remembered it—he, Fadel, Kaje, and even Yveeva despite her indifference. It was imprinted in each of them, their last breaths. The small constricting in the chests that heaved for one last grasp of air, one last attempt to hold on to what it could of their worlds, to still _exist_ in their worlds. It was desperate, pathetic maybe—but what part of death was ever gracious?

Zeeko frowned, remembering his last moments on Luna, his planet in the Southern quadrant of the universe. None of them talked much of what they were doing on their last day, or how they came to be in this place. It was just a general acceptance of what they knew—they were there, and now they were here.

He guessed that's why they entertained themselves with watching Pan from time to time, deflecting their own thoughts to her. His memory always stayed with him so vividly. He couldn't watch it from an outside view. He _felt_ it still.

It was a hot day, average to Luna's climate in the summer. He had been mending the injuries of rash children who accidentally hurt themselves whilst playing, and comforting the parents filled with concern. No one could've seen it coming—the bright light that ascended from the sky, the terrorizing screams from mothers witnessing their loved ones dying, and the one they called Kuriza, the heir to Frieza's empire, had his soldiers ravage the planet.

It haunted him—the blood splattered against their flowers, and the feeling of fear freezing the children of watching their bravest fall fast. As a healer, it was his duty to protect them, the small ones who shouldn't have to worry like that. He led them to the safe houses underground, but it wasn't enough.

For the first time, Zeeko had wished that his people weren't so peaceful, that they were just as savage as the monsters that tormented them. Maybe then, they would've had a chance.

He was on his way to gather a family at the village elder's home when they found him. It was a group of three, and he remembered the delighted curves etched on their lips, completely unmatched to the harshness in their eyes.

"We've been looking for one of you," said the first one. His arms were folded, and it was clear he was the leader of the three. "Kuriza wants to make a deal: give us your medicines and we _won't_ kill you."

"Yeh! Lord _Kar-eez-a_ just wants what you lot have! Heard it's betta' than that blue stuffs from that—" the second paused, looking towards the more quiet of the three. He was the one that made Zeeko feel uneasy. "Yo, Brutus! Wha's the planet called? Not Vegeta, but before the Truffles took it over?"

" _Plant_ ," the first one said for him. Apparently, the third one named Brutus didn't talk.

The second one almost let out a gleeful shout, "Yeh, tha's the one!"

Out of fear or stubbornness, or maybe he actually was being stronger than he expected, Zeeko didn't say anything to any of them. In fact, he didn't say anything at all. His mouth was shut while the three soldiers threw him against a house and hit him so hard that he was sure he broke his bones. He didn't whimper or scream when the one named Brutus stuck a hand into him, cutting through his flesh as if it was the thinnest material. He didn't cry when he felt him grabbing onto his spine from the inside.

No, Zeeko was silent through the ordeal because that's what he trained for. He was a healer, and he needed to protect his people even if he couldn't fight. That agitated them more, and they somehow made it worse for him. Still, he remained wordless.

When they saw he was near-dead, they dropped him to the ground and stomped on him as they walked through. They went the opposite direction of the underground safe houses, and he only could suffer through the shrieks from the village elder's home. When they were silent, he finally mumbled a prayer for them to find peace in the afterlife.

He remembered the sun touching him as he decided to drag his body a little further, as if by some chance it would've made a difference. He felt the tears of his insides as he scraped through hard dirt and debris of the town, the numbness of his legs as they finally gave out, and his brain's response telling him to stop.

He made it only a half meter away from his original position, and he failed as he tried to get up. His breathing slowed at a lullabying pace, but he didn't cry. He held on bull-headedly until he felt it, his last gasp of air. He inhaled, but it never left him.

Then, he was here.

No scratches or bruises. No blood. No rips in his clothes. Nothing that showed what he had been through only minutes before.

Zeeko grimaced, detesting the anger he was beginning to feel. It wasn't his favorite emotion, and he doubt it would ever be, but often he found himself consumed by it as of late. Unnerving as Kaje got under his skin, she was nowhere near as perplexing to the truth: he was dead, this wasn't the afterlife, and even with what he knew, all this place ever did was dissatisfy him.

"Hey, Zee—" there was an unfamiliar pause.

He turned around and saw her, the pain in his ass, halting with a blush across her face. His face grew warm, recalling the night before finally—knowing _exactly_ why he was there instead of the room he shared with Fadel.

Kaje turned away, waiting for him to fix himself properly. She was a warrior and Ravians were crude, but they weren't _this_ vulgar.

Zeeko got up, disliking the fact that he couldn't even clean himself up before he pulled up his pants, but holding his complaints for later. He could deal with the discomfort with the stiffening fabric on his legs, and made a mental note for the next time to leave before anybody could find him here again. With how adamant her feelings were, he was sure this would not be the last time they, well, s _hared_ _something_.

A goofy grin came upon her usually ticked off expression. Kaje wiggled her perfectly shaped brows, enticing a suggestive idea that he didn't want to discuss.

"Guess that boyfriend of hers could really make her—"

"Shut up."

* * *

\- _MORNING AFTER_ _IN ROOM 98_ -

Trunks groaned, feeling the aftermath of being still for so long. Sharing a bed for the first time was not what he imagined. There was nothing "full sized" about a full-sized mattress between two adults under a thick sheet after sex.

They were too hot to even consider cuddling, too lazy to get up and push the beds together, and too _in lust_ to sleep separately. It wasn't logical, but he guessed, compared to the majority of his life, logical itself had no logic.

His eyes blinked. There was a flash. Behind the light, there was a mischievous crooked smile forming on the curve of her mouth. He mumbled a few curses; he didn't know why but his mind immediately to being stalked by paparazzi. Paranoid and exhausted, he jumped up with a sheet hanging over his hips.

At the sight, he took a minute to blush. She was wearing his shirt, the white undershirt he wore yesterday. With her hair still tousled from bed head and her brow raised, he had to admit she looked pretty good. He might've even called her dull face cute if he didn't know what would follow afterwards.

" _Why'd you move?_ " she pouted, jerking her head out of the camera strap. As she lifted her arms, a lacy number—one that he did _not_ recognize from last night, and one he was surprised that Pan, of all people, owned—teased him and only cause a deeper crimson across his cheeks. She was hot, and he was wondering if he'd ever get used to the fact.

He stammered, "W-what are you doing?" He cursed himself in his head, but Pan only seemed to be amused. He corrected himself, "I mean, why are you taking pictures?"

"Why wouldn't I? You're _hot_ ," she shrugged as if it was the most casual thing she ever said to him. Pan made a note of him being flustered; she wasn't wrong, but she'll compliment him her more if he looked like that.

Naturally what question he followed with, unsure of how exactly to respond, was, "Well, how many have you taken?"

"Enough to make _a lot_ of money off some tabloids, especially the filthy ones," she winked. For once, _he_ was the one rolling his eyes. "Wanna pose for me—" she took a pause for dramatic effect, making her voice sound as innocent and as girly as possible, "— _prince?_ "

He let out a snort, despite the fact that the redness in his face wasn't leaving. A part of him was delighted at actually _hearing_ it her voice instead of reading it off a note, but another part of him was intrigued at her playfulness. And fine, he felt a bit cocky at being referred to as royalty.

"What? I'm not a 'doofus' anymore?" he asked.

"You'll always be a doofus," she said flatly, pushing the button to create another flash. "You just get this _look_ when I'm nice to you."

He faked an offended gasp, in which they both chuckled. It was nice that this part of the relationship hadn't change, the lightheartedness that he didn't feel with a majority of people. They've seen each other naked, and he expected that to create some distance (he wasn't sure why he felt that way either), but there she was in his shirt, laughing. It was comforting.

Then, he thought about being called prince again. How it dangerously popped off her lips. He then listed all the nicknames that could've called her: _baby_ ("Really? Do we want to make an emphasis on how young I am?" she snorted), _doll_ ("Your dad would punch you and then _I_ will," she reminded), _queen_ ("Don't put me on a pedestal now that we've had sex. I'm still your friend too," she blushed), or how about _lo_ —

"So, are you going to drop the sheet or what?" she cut through his thoughts, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. He only turned away to roll his eyes once again, but his grin didn't seem to match it.

"I'm not a _piece of meat_ ," he said haughtily, in a tone familiar to her various feminist speeches over the years. He watched her snap, adding a ' _damn'_ under her breath.

She smiled afterwards, settling her camera on the provided dresser in their room and putting her hands on her hips. "Well then, if we're not going to continue last night, may I suggest getting breakfast? I'm _starving_ and it's almost noon."

He blinked, playfully holding onto his chest as his blue eyes glittered.

"You waited for _me_ to eat? How _polite_ , _peaches._ "

"I'm going to kick your peaches if you don't stop," she warned.

* * *

\- _UP THE MOUNTAIN, DOWN HER MOOD_ -

Bra chugged the flask in the grips of her fingers, feeling the cold bourbon warm her insides up as it trickled down her throat. She wasn't an enthusiastic drinker— _nor was she going to become one who drank in the middle of the day_ —but she had to admit, it did feel good. After her adrenaline had dropped and a morning shower did nothing, she was finally feeling the repercussions of her brawl with Pan. She had a couple of battle scars to prove it too.

Still, that wasn't the reason why she was drinking. She knew better to use alcohol as some sort of medication. She specialized in chemical engineering, a minor in robotics. She wasn't _foolish_.

Her plan was to go back to her hotel room, treat her damaged epidermis with an arcina gel, order room service to increase her intake of bromelain, use the heating pad she packed to increase blood circulation, and then for the remainder of the trip, she was to rest. She was well aware of how to take care of herself, which is why she was a bit ticked off and drinking bourbon on top of a shitty cabin.

The night before, when she came back finally, exhausted from flying with sparse energy, there was the surprise on her nightstand—a familiar bag of senzu beans. The same amount she recalled from the Gravity Room, all tucked inside a brown canvas bag next to her things. Not a single one was misplaced, or taken. It was all there for her because even when they were supposed to be in a fight, Pan _still_ thought of her.

And she hated it.

Bra had refused to take a single one. Call it pride, but she wasn't particularly interested on feeling better, especially not by the hand of her so-called best friend. They were supposed to be in a _fight_ , and just—why would she do that! You're not supposed to care about the other person you're in a fight with!

Bra grunted. _Yet another thing she sucks at_ , she dismissed in her head, feeling better at adding another thing for her ' _Reasons You Shouldn't Be Friends_ ' list. She paused, and then decided to put ' _has no boundaries_ ' below ' _doesn't know how to behave during arguments_ '.

Taking a bean would only make her feel worse, so she cultivated the idea that she was being tested—by Pan, by some higher power, by the universe, or whatever was out there. _They_ were trying to scrutinize her, trying to prove she was dependent on this so-called friendship.

Well, _too bad_. She would not take one. She would deal with her pain because Bra knew how to take care of herself. She didn't anybody else.

After a minute of cursing under her breath and folly of her personal debate, Bra sighed. Then, she drank.

She sat on top of an abandoned cabin's roof, dangling her legs off the rusty gutters and looking past the douglas firs as if she could see through them. It was a _shit_ place to find, with the even more _shit_ directions given to her. He didn't even bother to give her a time; he just slid a messy note under her door while her roommate was out getting coffee with the others.

When she arrived, it wasn't much of an astonishment why he asked her to come here, a place so far and secluded that it was no wonder no one found him as of late. The cabin was beaten down. Fragile, aged wood did not welcome the critters lurking all around the base.

Stones were scattered everywhere; some broke some windows, some were gathered in an attempt to start a fire that never lit, some covered the broken walls of the place, but most were just broken. She wondered if _he_ did that, but figured he was far too gentle to be rambunctious.

Nonetheless, whoever was here before had lived this place to its capacity. It reminded her of a tale from the Inca myths Marron taught in school, the one about the Moon and the Sun. How the Moon was so bright that the Sun grew jealous. So to dim the light, the Sun threw ashes at the Moon, which is why it looks like the way it does.

Of course, science told her that the moon had craters, caused by meteorites and asteroids destroying its surface. The moon doesn't have an atmosphere to protect itself; so whatever impact it had, it took. The moon could take care of itself, she supposed. Since the cabin was still standing too, she guessed that was something they all had in common.

Bra took another swig, dissatisfied with how little she got out of it that time. She didn't realize that the flask was almost empty. The time she took in waiting felt blurred, but she was warm now at least. A little hot, maybe.

Just then, a small gust of wind blew her hair, cooling her pink face. She didn't know why, but it made her want to cry. She didn't, but she wanted to. She suddenly felt bad—bad for the moon to have no atmosphere, and bad for the cabin to have no caretakers.

"You got here way sooner than I expected," called a voice. She looked down, and there was Goten. He was rubbing his hands together, blowing into the makeshift hole created between his palms. Before she could ask, he flew up and sat beside her, dangling his legs off the rusty gutters too.

"I had to make sure you didn't come before me and bail," she offered a joke. They both knew that was a lie, but it almost felt like they forgot how to talk to each other. Simple _hello's_ and _how are you's_ didn't sit right, but the outright truth felt even more harsh.

So, they sat for five minutes in silence.

"We have to talk about what happened," Goten finally uttered after a while. Her eyes averted from the sky to the ground, clutching onto the flask before untightening her grip. She felt perplexed—then, well, nothing.

An indifference came on her face. No smile, but no frown either. She looked thoughtful. He wouldn't put it past her to have a solution to their dilemma, something much better than what he'd come up with in the past few days.

Bra was smart like that; it was one of his favorite things about her. She always spoke with such conviction, but with a sweetness that was only unique to her. He liked being her friend because they were so alike, and they never needed to explain things twice to each other. It was good like that, he supposed.

She commanded his attention again, clearing her throat. Suddenly, there was something in his. He realized then, he didn't want to have a solution. He didn't even want to have this _conversation_ with her. It felt—

"I... I don't think we need to," she finished simply, surprising him. Surprising them both. She wanted to sound stronger than that; she hated that she sounded so afraid, stammering like a child because she wasn't getting her way. How pathetic.

She added, "Correction, I don't want to talk about it. There's no point to it."

"No point of what? Shouldn't we talk about what... this means?"

"And what _does_ it mean, Goten? _Huh?_ " she challenged him, feeling her voice become more brash. She looked him straight in the eye, and he hated it.

She was daring him again. Those bright gunmetal blues that were so striking. Piercing him. Taunting him. Telling him to ' _go fuck yourself_ ' but yet—

They looked saddening. Like they've lost something. He didn't know. There was just something missing from them that he couldn't comment on. It wasn't heartbreak, but it was just as desperate, just as chaotic.

He didn't break their trance. Instead, he was hardening his stare. It was a rare look, and she knew that. But she didn't back off one bit.

"You don't think we need to talk about anything?" he asked. His voice was leveled, like he was holding his composure.

"What's the point!" Suddenly, she tried to take another swig from her flask, but it was empty. So she threw it to the ground, making a crater in the snow. "Ugh! I hate this!"

All at once, the poised and always together Bra lost it. Hell, she thought of bringing it along, did, and then dropped it along the way on purpose. She was about to slam a fist into a wall when she stopped and punched him instead.

"I hate you!" she called out as he fell to the floor beside the flask. He could've sworn she was crying, but she wiped away her face before she ascended to him, landing on his groin.

"Br-a!"

"You were going to sleep with me, weren't you?!"

One blow beside his face. Barely missing. She hit a rock instead.

"And then what was going to happen? _HUH_? Just what!"

Her free hand was on his neck, holding him for good measure. She hit his temple, and he realized it was her blood streaming into his ear.

"Use me up for a night and then crawl back to Marron? Was that it!"

"Hey! Stop!" He finally freed his hands to catch hers. A splatter from her open knuckle spread across his face. She was about to spit, but then thought it was _unclassy_.

Bra then got up, not even checking the condition of her hand but picking up the flask. She told him to get up, and he did.

"Are you done yet?" he huffed, wiping his face.

She didn't answer.

"You want me to say it? Fine! Yes, Bra, I was looking for a _fuck_ that night, alright? I was having a fight with my fiance and there you were, falling into my lap again. Practically beggin—"

She made contact with his face again, not caring how much it stinged. She just needed to punch _something_.

He continued despite the throbbing pain against his cheek. "Is that what you wanted to hear from me? That I don't care about you? That I'm just a shithead you can just write off so you can feel better about yourself—"

"Shut up."

"You want me to say that I was only friends with you so I could sleep with you when me and Marron are having problems? That I'm _proud_ that I even bothered crossing that line in the first place? That scolding you here is how I wanted to have a conversation with you?!"

" _Shut up._ "

"You don't think this is confusing for me too? I didn't cross another line with you because I cheated. I crossed another line because now I can't be your friend anymore because for fuck's sake, I might actually have feel—"

" _SHUT UP!_ " she stopped him. Her voice had more volume now. "You! You, you, you, you! That's all you care about, isn't it?"

"Coming from the _brat_ who got so upset over her friend leaving her for one lousy year!" He caught her fist now, throwing it back at her side.

"Really? You want to go there? Because as I last recalled, _you_ came to my house that day because your girlfriend left. You want to know why she did?"

He paused, clenching his jaw.

Bra poked his chest. "You want to know why you'll never be as great as your brother? Why you're not even _half_ the person your father is? Why your so-called best friend would rather hang out with your little niece than you?"

"Fucking say it," he barked.

"Because you're a fucking fraud! You want everyone to think you're so nice— _oh I'm Goten! The moral voice who'll never do any wrong!_ Bull fucking shit. You're angry. You're _selfish_. Really, did it have to take _me_ pushing you to get back with Marron? Don't forget it was _my_ idea for you to even propose the first place!"

"Yeah? If you really feel that way, then why they hell did you push me towards her? Send me on that plane when we literally fucked that morning? Were you really being a good friend to me, or were you trying to clear up you conscience?"

She didn't have a retort for that.

He knew he was grinding his teeth into dust, but he couldn't help it. He was hardly one to raise his voice, to be so pent up with anger. What's worse is that he thought he might've liked it.

He thought—no, he _knew_ , that despite all logic and how ridiculously childish the both of them were being, this is _why_ he liked her. He took a sharp breath to contain himself. _No,_ he told himself firmly. _He was not going to behave like this_.

After a moment, they both turned away to take a breath. Goten looked down. The snow would help immensely with how much pain he was in if he could dive head first. He refrained from doing so though.

"I guess, that's it. Isn't it?" Bra said, catching his attention.

"What's what?" he asked.

"Why you and me were so drawn to each other," she answered without hesitation. He looked up, but she only continued. "I didn't get at first, but I think now I do. Like forces always attract, don't they?"

He huffed, "What are you going on about?"

"You don't see it? I do," she said casually. She stood with an elbow in her hand, and her chin in the other. "We're so much alike; it's ridiculous that I didn't see it before."

Curious, he asked, "Explain."

"Me and you? We pretend we're so put together, that we're so rational, that our best friends could depend on us because we never dirty up our jeans ourselves. Why would we? I'm the modern independent woman, an upcoming scientist who still gets asked to model from time to time. You're the good-hearted veterinarian with a childhood sweetheart dating back to diapers and a family of superheroes—"

"Your point?" he was beginning to feel testy now.

"To everyone else, we're so fucking perfect. To each other? We could care less. We could scream and curse at each other like this when nobody's around because guess what? You see right through me and I see right through you too. And it makes us mad, but intrigued—who else can we act like this with?"

He wasn't sure why but he was grinning. He felt like he had been holding that in, that something boiled within him until it caught fire. Now it wanted out.

Goten cursed himself for a moment, damning his Saiyan blood being so... _fascinated_ with a walking disaster like this, being interested in becoming one himself. He always thought he had control of his undesirable qualities; that he was too soft to feel any animosity. That's what everyone told him after all.

She was looking at him. Again, with the piercing, chaotic gunmetal blues. He hated that she knew it, but he loved that she understood it.

"Before you get any ideas," Bra said. This time, she commanded his immersion. She wanted him to be engrossed in her every word. "I don't want you."

He croaked. "What?"

"I don't," she shrugged. "Why would I want somebody who's just like me? I can take care of my damn self."

She sped off like the wind, not much of a goodbye to him. She was off to find the person who did matter to her, the one who made her be the person she liked, and the one who sucked at having boundaries. _She_ was important, not him.

* * *

\- _SNOW IN THE AFTERNOON_ -

The fifth of their group had left them to their own devices, settling back inside the lounge as the other three seemed to energetic with caffeine in their systems. Uub, Pan, and Trunks bid Marron a goodbye as they trailed around the snow.

A wind blew in her face, and Pan closed her eyes to enjoy it. Though she still preferred the beach to the mountains, she could appreciate when mother nature took care of her. That is, until somebody chucked a clump of snow in the back of her head.

Trunks stood wide-eyed as Uub raised his hands in surrender. Giru only hid behind them.

" _Wasn't me!_ " they all called out at once.

Finally, Uub laughed. "Nah, I'm kidding. It was m—"

She returned the favor, a much bigger favor. All the frosted powder fell down, meeting the height of his kneecaps. Trunks suddenly found himself between the two, or well, acting as a shield for Uub.

"You're not going to hurt me while I'm behind your precious Trunks, will you?" he teased. There was a screaming Giru on his back, not happy at the pace they were running around Trunks.

Pan snorted, "You think pretty boy over here is going to stop _me_?"

"I would like to think so," mumbled said Pretty Boy. Before he knew it, she jumped onto his front and dropped a heap of snow behind him. Her legs wrapped around his waist as her one of her arms raised in victory. (The other wrapped around his neck and pushed his face into her chest.)

"SUCK IT!" she laughed, and Pretty Boy was blushing again for _n_ th time of the day.

Uub shook his hoodie out of the ice, shivering as one chuck slithered down his back. When he looked up, the island boy's brow furrowed in confusion. Trunks was struggling but Pan was still pushing, uh, against him.

"Danger! Danger! Trunks suffocating! Trunks suffocating! _Giru. Giru_ ," announced the small robot as it tried to pry off what was suffocating him.

"Gi-Giru!" Uub shouted, suddenly feeling like he was eavesdropping in a private moment. The two fell and Uub did his best to retrieve his little friend. "Pan! You're crushing Giru!"

"Huh?" she sat up, and sure enough, below her bodily imprint was a deeper one of a sphere-shaped Giru. She picked him up and tossed him in the air in a hum of giggles. "Hey, little buddy!"

When she caught him, his light only seemed to blink. "Giru..." it seemed unsure, "is Pan's little buddy?"

She scoffed, but nothing seemed to deteriorate her mood. "Of course, you are. What? You think just because you and Uub spend more time together that you aren't part of this little family? News flash: you're stuck with all of us."

" _Giru, Giru._ Family?" it repeated, still in the same curious tone. "But Pan not nice to Giru—"

"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN!" she snapped, firming her grasp on the frantic metal ball. "I'm plenty nice!"

" _Honey_ , I think yelling at him doesn't prove your case at all," Trunks spoke up. In a slow turn, the girl and the robot deadpanned to him. "What?"

Her voice was almost a whisper. She asked, "Did you just call me honey?"

"Trunks incorrect. _Giru, Giru_. Pan not like honey at all. Trunks cannot eat Pan."

"I beg to differ," he rebutted in a grumble. If not for her training, she wouldn't have heard him. When she was about to push him out of embarrassment, a snowball had collided with his cheek.

They all looked up to find Uub bundling up another shot. "I'm happy for you guys and this is cute, but seriously... _yuck_."

"Coming from the guy who asked me to be his woman!" Pan snickered, rolling Giru in some snow and throwing him at the island boy.

"Sweetheart—"

"Sweetheart?!" hollered both Pan and Uub, hitting him with more snowballs. Trunks got up to retaliate, giving up his endeavor of finding a nickname.

"Fine, _Panny_ ," Trunks snorted, earning a snort while joining in their little game. Two balls hit them both in the face. Neither of them hit him again. "I'm just saying that maybe Uub's lone—" he dodged a hard throw from Pan. "—lonely without Bra!"

Even in the cold weather, the flush across his cheeks were as crimson like a bright crayon. He stammered, "L-lonely without who now?"

" _Please_ ," Trunks hovered, shrugging and wagging a suspicious finger. "I _know_ when people are interested in my sister!"

"Wha—where is this even coming from?!" rebutted Uub. The warmth in his face didn't ease up, and neither did the snow. His friends giggles were almost as loud blizzard winds. "I've never admitted to anything!"

Pan soared up behind Trunks, smashing a pile a snow on his face from her palm as she hiked on his back. Though in protest of the snow, he didn't mind her closeness. _"Ooh, you aren't denying it either!_ " she teased in a singy-songy voice. "Is that why you take so good care of Giru?"

Trunks spat the frost from his mouth, wiggling as he still held onto her legs. When his face was free, he only continued the teasing. Uub threw more snowballs at the new duo who only ran away as he chased them with a comically large boulder of snow.

Truthfully, though he knew they were comforting Giru, the island boy was very happy to be apart of this new family. It wasn't long before their snowball fight turned into a dog piling on the ground.

* * *

\- _BY THE BAY WINDOW_ -

It continued to snow erratically, hitting the glass window in an off-putting beat. The sun was setting now, and she couldn't help but notice how different it was from the city. What was vibrant and saturated was dull and pastel. It looked innocent, like the paleness stripped the land of harsh realities and even rougher truths.

 _You can't be upset in a place like this_ , she contemplated. And she was right, she couldn't. Even with the small strain in her relationship at the moment, and the questionable weather, it was hard to be at rage of anything.

The air inside the lounge smelled like hot chocolate and cinnamon. There were murmurs of conversations, small talk and thoughtful ones. The fireplace brought a delicious warmth, not stuffy like machine heaters but something only burning wood could do. When her friends finally came in, she waved to them and politely declined the movie viewing invitation. Apparently, zombies were perfect for blizzards.

Marron laid her head against the glass, feeling like some character from a romantic comedy going through a solemn montage as she's apart from her love interest. She would've liked it better if she felt like a badass she-warrior from a zombie apocalypse saving humanity by slaying one undead body at a time—however, she wasn't a fan of blood and guts. Plus, technically, she was a apart from her love interest. So, there was that.

She refrained from whispering his name in a yearning moan though. She didn't like waking up without him, but hell, she had to have some pride for what he accused her of. Her brows furrowed.

 _Was it mine?_ was a questioned that kept her up. Not that she had questioned its answer, but for the sheer audacity he had for questioning her loyalty. Even if it was more of his own guilt from being involved with somebody else, how dare he _doubt_ her. Was a lifetime of loyalty not enough?

She felt angry, but it quickly faded as it came. Again, it was hard to be at rage of anything here. She could see the appeal of what the locals talked about—you live a whole day in the snow, making trails wherever you walk, but come next morning, you have fresh powder to start new again. It was comforting.

She was still waiting for her next morning, she guessed. Her new blank canvas of tomorrow, where yesterday has little importance and tomorrow is always hopeful at starting anew. Right now, she was still trying to trek back home. Back to him.

With a finger pressed against the glass, she traced a circle on the fog of her breath. It wasn't anything significant, but it felt like a marker. He was out there, she knew it.

Whatever goddamn trouble he was getting himself into right now, she didn't care. She wanted to forget it. She wanted to go back how things used to be.

 _Used to be_ , she paused. That was an interesting thought.

* * *

 _\- NIGHT IN ROOM 98 -_

"Wait, if you're not teaching martial arts, then what are you doing at the gym?"

She scoffed at the question. For one of the most brilliant fighting strategists she ever knew, he sure asked a lot dumb questions. "I have more talents than my fists," she said, a bit offended.

Uub rolled his eyes. "I'm not questioning your capabilities. I'm just curious."

"I'm working with the PR department. Female attendance has been crappy since my mom stopped martial arts when she was pregnant with me, and I guess—" she sighed, rolling her eyes. "— _I_ may have ruined attendance in general when I used to work out there in the mornings."

Trunks looked up from his book, a bit curious. They had finished their zombie movie, but it wasn't as great as they thought it be. It was hard of using Giru's projector when it shaked so much being beside Pan.

Now they were hanging out. They invited Marron again, but she said she was sleeping early. He wasn't much into conversation, so Trunks just listened while Uub and Pan talked. The subject was her job in the city when they returned.

"Dude, what did you do?" the island boy asked the fighter. She threw her hands up in a surrender, swearing it was seriously not her fault.

"I can't help if a man's ego gets so hurt by being tossed by a little girl," Pan shrugged. "They shouldn't have underestimated me in the first place. My mom used to kick their asses too."

He turned his page, sighing a bit. "Yeah, but your mom doesn't have superhuman strength like you do," Trunks said, not looking up at her.

"Yes, because it's not like I've literally been training since I could walk. I flew before any of you did," she reminded him. He felt her glare from his pages and regretted looking up to see her sticking her tongue out.

"You still haven't answered his question," he brought up, not really reading anymore. Nonetheless, he wasn't going to let her know, so he turned another page.

Pan turned, sighing. "Basically, they're just making me the face since I have the Satan name. I mean, I'm not world champion but they need a new healthy-looking body to be in campaigns and advertisements. I wanted to be behind the lens, but I'm—" she stopped as he began cackling.

"You're modeling?" Trunks dodged the pillow that she was laying under. "I'm being serious. Is that what you're doing?"

"I have to do press stuff too! It's not like I'm just there to get my picture taken. If I recall, you kind of do the same thing, Mr. Figurehead," she punched his leg.

"Are you going to do all the commercials Mr. Satan does? Because, no offense, I would find that _hilarious_ ," Uub broke their small squabble. He only earned an eye roll because he was far away. Pan reached for her pillow again and he turned another page.

"I've seen the idea boards when I told then I was starting in the fall, but they want to either do some girl power thing or make martial arts sexy. It's fucking stupid," she admitted thoughtlessly. Both boys, of course, wanted her to go into detail. "It's either we make everything pink in the name of 'feminism' or I'm in some skimpy costume that makes me look like I belong in a mud wrestling costume. It's stupid!"

"A pink martial arts gym?"

"What kind of skimpy costume? Do you want me to hook you up with better creative directors?"

Pan sighed, refraining from rolling her eyes. Uub's response was harmless, and Trunks just wanted to help. However, that wasn't what she wanted to hear. Neither of them were getting her frustration. It was in this time, she missed Bra the most. She would know exactly what to say.

 _What?! Screw both of that! If they want you, then they should take you seriously as a_ fighter. _That's it! Idiots, I swear!_ That would be her response if she was in this conversation right now, and that's what she needed to hear.

She just got it like that, without her ever needing to explain so. She adored the boys, but they were getting on her nervous a bit.

"More like making everything girly, Uub," Pan sighed, explaining for the first time of five times that night.

* * *

- _PAN'S PENTHOUSE IN WEST CITY -_

It was becoming a problem. He never intended to be the type of parent to snoop around, but here he was, studying her photo albums and looking through her kitchen cupboards. Thankfully, Videl opted to sleep back at their house while he stayed close for his early conference. Otherwise, she would have a thing or two to say about his neuroticism.

He couldn't believe everything he was discovering though!

Like one, her secret drink of choice was Fireball, a cinnamon whiskey. She kept a small bottle in her nightstand, inside a metal box of trinkets. (Thankfully, it wasn't opened so he could safely say she wasn't an alcoholic.) (There was also a bigger sized bottle under her bathroom sink, however.)

Two, he learned that her closeness with Trunks came after her first year college. (He had to admit he was pretty relieved.) Apparently, the little boy he grew up watching collected pressed coins, the kind where you inserted at tourist attractions and watch the circular copper become oval-shaped. He sent Pan a different one every two weeks while she was away for school, haphazardly taped to a postcard with the note, " _Make your own luck. These are useless_." (She kept all of this in a carved-out dictionary on her dresser, along with other _Trunks_ -related memorabilia that he didn't want to question.)

Three, she had skipped out on going to the dance on Prom night, the only time he watched her put on a formal dress without complaint. She went to Paris with Bra instead, and the girls wore neon wigs to conceal their identities from paparazzi. They bought six boxes of disposable cameras, and had not wasted a single flash of film. It made him wonder if _this_ is when she began to be interested in photography.

Lastly, he learned that she kept a USB drive tapped to the back of her record player. Suddenly, thoughts of her being a 1920's art thief occurred to him. He brushed that off when he thought she might have some off-shore bank accounts, prepared to run away whenever she wanted. That made him frown.

He debated on looking at it, but after ten seconds, he took a deep breath and dug his own grave. What he found on it was a folder titled, **SORRY DAD**. (Celebrities getting famous off of sex scandals nowadays did not help his mind, but he trusted her—or at least, he trusted himself to raise her right.)

However, inside of that folder was his daughter in a single video, parading around the city in her mother's Saiyaman No. 2 suit, helping cats out of trees and telling kids to stay in school.

He was in awe. He had the _coolest_ daughter ever.

Gohan then put all the things he found back in their original places, making an effort so they appeared untouched. He returned to the couch where his unfinished reports and lesson plans mocked him. When he decided to procrastinate a little longer, he heard a knock on at the door. The idea of a guest at three in the morning didn't settle well to him, making him put on his protective father hat.

What surprised him though was neither a friend or foe, but a grumpy old man who he more or less accepted as an acquaintance. To his surprise, he was wearing a full tracksuit, one like the green one he used to wear, except it was black entirely.

"I'm going to be blunt and you're the only person I can do that with," Vegeta said, entering without Gohan even stepping back. He made way to the sitting area, waiting for Gohan to join him as he sat with his arms crossed.

The younger man sat, scratching his head. "How can I help you, Vegeta?"

"We need to call all the children back and begin training immediately." Before he could question him, the Saiyan Prince just said, "Apparently, Frieza has an heir."

* * *

 **A/N** : Let me get some things out of the way first!

1\. It wasn't my attention to make Goten bad and questionable, but writing his argument with Bra resonated with me. I know it may be out of character because he was sweet in the beginning of this story, when I wrote it as sad/melancholy, it just... I wanted to explore their relationship more than she was crying because they hooked up a few times one summer. Plus, rereading perspectives of what their friends think of them, I couldn't help but it was all too rose-colored.

2\. I wanted to bring Kuriza because I just thought how symbolic it would be to have a Son vs Son thing for Trunks. Originally, I was going to bring in Mirai Trunks but I'll let Super keep that story line lol

3\. This wasn't much a TruPan chapter because I want to move them back to the city after all this drama. Screw the Dragon Balls! (Kidding, I have a great idea on what I'm doing).

4\. **huge disclaimer** : This has never been an organized story from the beginning. Honestly, if it feels all over the place, it's because it probably is. I can own up to that lol. But I keep it around because it makes me happy to write. It might end up being the worst fic ever but I'm oddly at peace with it.

5\. IRONICALLY, I do have another story that I'm working on. A decent one lol. It's a TruPan one with the same characterizations as this, but I guess just... better planned? I'm only planning to post if I finish it though

6\. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, and if this is not what you expected out of an update, then I'm so sorry but I promise some cool things are going to happen. It was just feeling too slow for me as I wrote this chapter.

7\. Wait also yes, Zeeko is one of my OC's and if his section wasn't clear enough. He and Pan are connected in a way that he feels everything she feels. I figure that since I wrote sex stuff, he would feel that too (whoops)


	12. Part I - Chapter 12

_Between Friends_ —

Rated: M (for obvious reasons)

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything related to the DragonBall franchise.

Summary: Another adulthood-esque fic. Identity crises & long talks.

Pairings: Trunks/Pan. Goten/Marron. Bra/Uub.

Note: Hi, this is my first DBZ-related fic and I doubt I'll ever figure out the plot completely. Writing as we go! ( **08/2016 Updates** : new formatting and rewrites on previous chapters. _All_ replied reviews  & author notes have been posted on my Tumblr page. I just wanted to focus on the writing, please.)

* * *

 ** _CHAPTER 12_  
** Middle of June | 201 Days Before

Pan jerked her head up, trying to shake off her sleep like a freshly bathed puppy who wasn't too fond of water. Sleep was fine; sleep was good. Sleep was all she did in the past few days and, _well_ , she was tired of it.

As much as she liked building snowmen now and cozying up to a warm fire, she missed the summer sun and getting freckles on her face. She also missed training with Vegeta. Uub and Trunks were fine sparring partners for the time being, but they liked to do more than fight all day. Uub was adamant of wanting to roast marshmallows before they left, and Trunks seemed to be reading more than usual.

She liked to do other things too, but she left her camera charger in the yellow aircraft and she already explored enough of the mountain to not see it again for a while. Pan would've hung out with Marron, but the older girl had been opting to hang out with Bra in their shared room. Goten seemed to also be stuck in his room now that he returned from wherever he was. Not that she would talk to him anyway, but it was another closed option.

Pan could handle a lot of nonsense, but inactivity was simply not one of them. She was bored. Kind of hungry. Vacation or not, this trip was exhausting for the simple fact that there was nothing to do but _be_ _exhausted_. Getting punched in the face sounded more appealing than being exhausted. Therefore, she would rather be training now.

She turned to the man beside her who was still asleep. His hair was beginning to grow out and without a trim, the patches of lilac strands that grew faster than the rest of his head began to curl at the end. A piece was scratching the tip of his nose so Pan decided to fix it for him.

Trunks looked so boyish when he slept. She hadn't noticed that until she shared a bed with him because she wanted to. Even when she had a crush and would find him napping around his office chairs, she never saw this kind of innocence in him. He looked peaceful, like the world was bright and he was dreaming of something sweet. It was different from the awake him that looked a bit too serious, or was smug about something just to be smug.

When he slept, he looked optimistic—if a person could look optimistic while being still. He looked like he only had one worry in the world and that's how happily he would take the next day. She watched him for a while, and hoped he was having a good dream. When she got up to get dressed, he reached for her and she blushed.

Trunks mumbled something she couldn't comprehend and then let go of his grip. He then turned and she saw his entire back. It was lovely, every muscle carved on his smooth skin and the line that ran down his spine. If a back could be attractive, then his would win every beauty contest by a landslide. She would never tell him though; as well as they transitioned from their friendship to this, there was just some things a woman kept to herself when it came to boyfriends. It was her little secret.

She walked to their shared bathroom and turned on the shower. She let the water hit her face before massaging her scalp with shampoo. She was trying to wash her hair when she heard a large bang at their front door. Pan quickly threw on her robe and a scowl, irritated by the intruder.

She then slammed the bathroom door back inside upon seeing Vegeta stand on top of their now broken front door, with an arm full of dragon balls. She knew Trunks was finally awake when he began to scream. Pan sighed, damning Dende. "I missed _training_ with the old guy, not him. Geez," she mumbled.

When she finally got dressed and made it down to the lobby (her room was empty when she came out), she could see she wasn't the only one in the middle of a shower. Trunks was trying his best to apologize to the host for damages as Bra and Uub tried to ring out their hair. She felt a tap on her shoulder; Marron was handing her bag over. She blushed at the haphazardly packed travel bag with an open pocket that had a condom wrapper sticking out. Pan quickly restuffed everything as neatly as she could.

"Girl, carry these!" Vegeta ordered before throwing the dragon balls in the air. Pan did her best, but the four-star ball dropped on top of her nose. Her teacher then walked out and apparently, that was cue for everyone to follow.

"Here, give them to Giru," Pan looked up and saw Bra helping her off the ground. They still weren't talking yet, and she felt like she should've said something.

"Thanks," she said, and that was it. Bra gave all the remaining balls to Giru before walking outside to join everyone else. Pan frowned.

"Are you going to make up with her any time soon?" Trunks asked as he came behind her with a stack of receipts.

Pan frowned some more. Instead of telling him how much she missed her best friend, she said, "You shouldn't have paid for everything. I could've helped."

The two walked out and only grew more confused upon seeing Gohan and Piccolo shivering in the snow. Pan walked over to greet them, but it was cut off short when Vegeta ordered them to follow him back home to the Capsule Corp. compound. Her father's eyes trailed at Trunks before making off. She didn't know why, but that made her a little sad. She guessed a phone call wasn't a good notice to give somebody.

They all flew (without the yellow aircraft) back to West City and landed in the front steps before making way inside to the new Gravity Room. Pan and Bra said nothing of its new location, but Trunks was in awe of it. Vegeta then told them to change into something more comfortable before meeting back to the GR in five minutes. Goten was the only who was brave enough to ask why their break was cut so soon. Vegeta answered with a scowl and a barking order.

Pan naturally flew to the room she always slept in while she stayed with the Briefs. She changed out of her jeans and sweater into her shorts, sport bra, and weights. Inside was cool, but flying had made her sweat a little. She heard a knock on her door.

"Come in!" Pan yelled as she adjusted the straps of her boots. It had been some time since she wore them.

Gohan quietly made his way inside, smiling fondly at his daughter before rushing to greet her with a hug. The familiar smell of his cologne and cardigan sweater made her grin. It had been some time since she had a hug like this too. Gohan then sat down as she slid on her wristbands.

"Honey, we need to talk," her father started and Pan nodded for him to continue. As she zipped up her chest weight, she was surprised that Marron carried all of her equipment up so effortlessly. It had been a while since they went head to head. Gohan then gestured for her to sit down, and her smile faded.

"What's going on, Dad?" Pan asked carefully as she listened to sit. He tried to smile, but it wasn't reassuring her. Pan asked more specifically this time, "Is there something wrong?"

"How was the trip? Did you have fun?" he was avoiding the subject.

"Yeah, I had a great time," she answered as she studied his face, looking for any kind of tell. It was hard to read his expression, and she wished he would just spit it out already. "Is that… is that what you wanted to talk about?"

Gohan reached for her hand and she knew it was bad. It was always bad news when he reached for her hand like this. The last time he did, she was told that she couldn't use her powers while she was away at college. She retreated her palm, feeling uncomfortable.

"What's going on, Dad?" she asked again, more sternly this time.

"Your grandpa—Grandpa Satan—he's in the hospital," he said firstly to test the waters. If she was shaken by the information, she didn't show it.

"What is it?" she questioned, staring at him.

Gohan fidgeted. Her eyes were always a combination of his mother's and Videl's. They were dark and full like Chichi's, but they had the same serious shape like his wife's. It didn't help that he hated to disappoint those women; it only added to the unease of telling bad news to his daughter. Her eyes were like telling three important people bad news all at once.

"Cancer in his liver. Your mom took him to the doctor's today and they found it during an exam. They don't think the chemo will help as much, but he doesn't want to proceed with treatment anyway," he answered. He watched for any indication to tell him how she felt about it. She remained still.

"So he just wants to die?" Pan said, more to herself than anything. She wanted to shake her head in disbelief at the ridiculous notion of just waiting to die without a fight, but she didn't. She wanted to call him a coward, but she couldn't bring herself to. She quickly changed the subject, "Is that all?"

Gohan shook his head no. "I'm sorry," was the only thing he could muster up.

Pan prepared herself for some more talk.

* * *

He didn't even knock, and Trunks just sighed again as his father broke yet another room door of his. The old man's demeanor was hard and tough, but he was used to it. He was tying up his laces when Vegeta ordered him to sit down on his bed. At thirty-six, Trunks still listened to his daddy like a little boy.

"You need to stop with whatever you have with the girl now," his father said bluntly without much a cushion. He could've started with asking how the trip was, but Trunks knew he wouldn't.

"And why would I?" the younger asked as he tightened the bow of his sneakers.

"Because if I'm training the both of you, I need you to not be soft," Vegeta answered as if that was enough to suffice. When it wasn't, he added, "There's a new enemy. A strong one. We're all too old to protect you now."

Trunks paused for a moment. "Does everyone know what's going on?"

"They're being told now as we speak. Your mother is talking to your sister," Vegeta said shortly.

"How long do we have until they reach Earth?"

"Winter."

"Is Gohan telling her the same thing?"

"We've agreed its best."

"What if we don't want to break up?"

"We're not giving you a choice," Vegeta dismissed him before he could ask him another question. Trunks stared at his old man, repeating all the information given to him within the past minute. He broke the glance to stare at the door on the floor and then returned his gaze.

"I'm not ending it," he decided.

"Yes, you are," Vegeta corrected. "This isn't about your feelings, or how your premature relationship will save us all because it won't. We need you all at your best and as comrades. Nothing more."

"I'm not ending it, father." he repeated. Trunks stood up.

"You think you could do both?" the old man stared him. "If something were to happen where you had to choose between the girl and that android's child—"

"Marron," Trunks added for him.

Vegeta did break his glare. How _childish_ this boy was. "If you had to choose between them to save, could you do it? Sure, you can try to save both but then you lose them in the process. Now you have two dead comrades instead of one. If you had to save one, who would you choose? Time's ticking."

Trunks didn't have an immediate answer. He knew who he wanted to save, but felt that was wrong. He was being biased. Then again, Pan was a better fighter and in the long run, she would be more useful. Then again, Marron was his friend. His best friend's _fiance_. How could he—

"Time's up. Both are dead because you couldn't pick," Vegeta took a step closer to him. "You think it's going to be easier once your relationship has progressed even more? I'll tell you now that it won't. It'll only get harder. You think you could handle sacrificing Pan to save a stranger? Because the look in your eye tells me you can't.

"This isn't an argument to have, Trunks. I'm not telling you what to do for my benefit or even this goddamn planet's. There's a battle coming and if you're not ready to do what it takes then to hell with everything we've ever worked for! If you want to be with her, then fine. Do it after you win, not when neither of you could afford have a distraction," Vegeta finished. He only gave his son a warning look before flying out.

Trunks slammed his fist on his nightstand, and then grimaced when he hit the glass lamp instead. Not out of pain, but how disgusting his hand looked with shards of glass stabbed into it. He took a deep breath before walking to the bathroom to wash the blood.

As the water ran red down the drain, he gently slammed his head against the sink mirror. It didn't crack, but he wished it would've. It would only explain his lousy luck with timing.

For the record, he wasn't willing to sacrifice Pan to save a stranger. Even if they weren't together romantically, it was downright foolish. Not only was she one of their best chances to winning, but because she was Mr. Satan's granddaughter and a lot of people had faith in her. Killing her would be killing their hope. He couldn't do that.

He also, if he was being completely honest with himself, couldn't sacrifice a stranger to save Pan either. Less out of personal feeling, but more because of his principles. He wouldn't sacrifice anybody. He didn't want to. When it came down to it, he would make the effort to save both. It was the right thing. It was the only thing.

The water went clear and he opened his medicine cabinet for some bandages. When he closed the small compartment, the reflection of his mother was staring right back at him. She tried to smile, but it wasn't comforting. He turned to hand her the white roll, and she took it without questioned. She started to wrap his hand when she laughed.

"I thought you needed an excuse to redecorate," Bulma began, examining his cuts.

"It's just a lamp. I could replace that," he said. The first layer was already stained with blood, but not too much. His right hand was going to hurt when he used it later though.

"He means well, you know. He isn't the smoothest talker, but he's always had your best interests at heart," she tried to comfort him. Trunks knew what she was doing, and that's the only reason why he allowed the thought to seep into his reality. Bulma noticed and added, "You two will still be friends. You two were great ones not too long ago."

"I know he does, but I want her too much than to be just friends again," he admitted as she tied a knot at his palm. Bulma didn't let go of hand just yet. He recalled fondly, "You know when she away in college, I used to send her a penny every other week?"

"That's not much to pay off student loans," his mother laughed. It made him smile a bit at the sound.

"The summer we became friends, she would come get me out of my office and we'd just walk around the city to find those machines that flattens coins into stamps. I don't know why we did that, but we did most of our talking during those walks. I told her things, but it was easy, you know? She was my friend," he told her.

"You have plenty of friends, Trunks," Bulma reminded as a mother should, but he shook his head.

"I do, but not like her. Nobody's like her. I've never felt both comfortable and on my toes all at once... if that makes any sense. It probably doesn't, but I can't describe it any other way. I sent her those pennies because I missed our walks. I missed her. I tried to write a lame note about making your own luck with it, but it was never about that. I just wanted to talk to her again, but I had to wait.

"Then, she came back the next summer and I had so many things planned for us to do. Not romantically, but because I _genuinely_ wanted to spend time with her and have some fun. Before I could ask her anything, I overheard her telling Bra she wasn't going back to school. She wanted to take a gap year, and I was an idiot, mom. I thought that meant she was going to stay in the city for the whole year while she figured things out. I had been e-mailing a couple people about a possible opening just in case she needed a job, but then Bra tells me she's throwing her a goodbye sleepover so she needed me out the house for the night.

"I didn't stay away for long though. I couldn't. On her last night, why would I? So, I dragged Goten along to crash their sleepover and we had a great time. Then, everyone fell asleep, but us. I had work still, and she was always restless. She can't sleep at our house, and I don't know why, but it doesn't matter. She kissed me that night, and I didn't know how to feel. I didn't hate it, but that was the weird thing about it. I _liked_ the kiss, but I couldn't admit it. I told her she was drunk and then she left. That whole summer I tried to kiss different women, but it wasn't the same... I know you don't want to hear that, but I just need to be honest.

"When she called Bra to tell her she was coming home, I didn't know how to feel anymore. She was my friend, my _good_ friend. I tried to think of it as a random kiss, that it was meaningless, but it change something for me. When I saw her at the party, I knew what it was. I knew I didn't want to be her friend anymore, but she pretended it never happened and I didn't have the courage to tell her different. It didn't matter, I guess. We ended spending so much time together afterwards anyway, and she became my _best_ friend.

"Finally, we kissed again before we left and I knew what I always knew. The best part was she felt the same way. I waited so long for us to be here, and now I don't want to go back. It sounds selfish, but I _can't_ go back. I don't want to wait again," he finished, taking back his hand.

Bulma watched her son tense up, clenching his fists. Then after a second, he let it go. He relaxed his shoulders, and his smile was faint. She felt for him, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

"Trunks..." Bulma said; it was almost a whisper.

"It's fine, mom. What do I know?" he said, more to himself than anything.

Trunks didn't want to continue the conversation. He walked back to the GR and took his time. He wasn't in the mood for flying. He shouldn't fly in the house anyway. It was silly and immature, and a habit he should've grown out of by now. He was closer to forty than he was twenty; he could walk.

As he passed the grey metal walls, he wished there were more pictures hung along this long hallway. They took plenty pictures as a family, but only a few were ever displayed. There were at least three in the living room, but he never saw much elsewhere. When Bra was a kid, his grandmother used to hang up her drawings on the fridge and they would pretend her scribbles were the most fascinating set of blueprints ever created. He missed that. He didn't get to hang much his drawings because he was busy training or whatever.

These halls were so long, and they could've used a paint job. Or some wallpaper. The overhead lighting could be less like a hospital and more decorative—but what did he know? Not much.

When he finally made it to the GR, he could see Marron waiting out the room. She waved to him, and he put on his best grin. How could he not value her life too? It made him feel guilty. He was a shit friend.

"Hey, Trunks!" Marron greeted, patting at the seat next to her. He made way and she explained how they were the first ones there. "Piccolo told me and Uub what's going on, but they went to go check on Goten and Pan. This is crazy, isn't it? It's like some messed up fate."

Yeah. Messed up fate. Trunks nodded, "Tell me about it."

"I just think it's funny how all our parents traveled to Namek—well, except for Uub but he doesn't count—and now we're going up against Frieza's heir. I mean, Gohan was just _a kid_ when he left with my dad and your mom. Vegeta was there too, but eh, let's not remember—"

"Marron?" Trunks piqued.

"What?" the blonde asked quietly.

"You're just rambling a bit. Are you alright?"

"Not at all! I'm a nervous mess," she admitted as a rose tint colored her cheeks. Her voice was quiet now, and he finally noticed her engagement ring was on a necklace. She then said, "But I have hope."

* * *

Bra had decided to skip the training. After the talk with her mother, she thought it was better to strategize in a less barbaric way. She needed all the information Jaco had passed onto her parents. When that was done, then the training regimen could begin. Being strong was important, but that couldn't be their only strength.

She left a note on her door just in case anybody was wondering of her whereabouts, and then flew to her mother's lab where her notes were. So far, all she knew was that Kuriza was an alien that lived in a vacuum environment so he could breathe in space. He was headed for Earth, but was recruiting planets along the way. Jaco said he was on a planet called Ravi to work with their king. Something about their original queen dying decades ago before Frieza was on Namek looking for their dragon balls? Something like that...

There wasn't much to go off of, which is why she thought immediately going to train was foolish. She knew her father wanted to get an idea of where they all were at as fighters, but that could wait. They would all work hard anyway so it didn't matter where their starting point was.

Bra punched in the passcode for Bulma's lab and made way. She wasn't back yet so she had a little time to retrieve her notebook at least. The young scientist headed for her mother's desk and when she found the leathered black book that was only secured by a rubber band, she flew back outside. It wasn't _stealing_. She would return in anyway.

Reading in her room or her own lab wasn't an option so Bra decided to go to Dende's. The distance from the Lookout to her place—plus the time they would probably finish sparring or whatever—would give her about two hours to study before they reviewed together as a group. That was enough time to come up with a better plan. Her father, as cool as his demeanor always was in stressful situations, was behaving more frantic than she would've liked. He was being irrational and she didn't like that. That would just call for mistakes.

She went through her brother's balcony instead of the front door so she didn't pass whoever was still waiting out the GR. As she left a streak in her passing, she noticed Pan jumping into the pool with her weights on. She wanted to say something, and maybe she should've, but Pan could swim and she had notes to figure out.

* * *

The sky was different during the day than when she was under the water at night. The ripples of pool blurred the clouds and trees, and the light made twenty feet feel so shallow. She didn't feel calmer in the water, and she hated that. Her safe place wasn't as comforting as she would've liked.

Pan swam back up, and touched the edge of the pool. She could feel the sun popping freckles on her shoulders, and for a moment, she found peace in the warmth. For a second, she forgot about all the information passed onto her and watching her father on the verge of tears. A lot was happening right now, and it was a lot to process.

As she sat in wet spandex, she thought about this morning of how she wanted nothing more than to train today. Back in the GR with Vegeta, even. Now, she was skipping it on purpose because she wasn't ready for it. She couldn't face him yet. It was… she just couldn't do it.

It was one thing when she agreed it was best to focus on just training, but it was another actually admitting it—especially to him and in front of his face. She didn't know how he felt, but it made sense, right? She was twenty-two, and it wasn't like they had been dating for a while anyway. Being comrades was _more_ important. _Protecting the planet_ had more priority. Dating and all that stuff? It could wait… right?

Yes.

Yes, it could. She trained for this her whole life; she couldn't afford something else to be on her mind now that there was actually something to fight. All warriors were disciplined... What was half a year to the rest of their lives?

Nothing, right? Winter was December and it was already June. The middle of June. Technically, that was six months and a couple of weeks. Training would take up most of their time anyway—so, it's not like it was a _big_ deal. This was just a precaution for down the road. It was better to take a break now before their schedules piled up rather than to suffer through it and resent each other.

They were both ambitious people. He would understand. Trunks was always smart like that. What was she so nervous about? It was the _mature_ decision. He would get that. They could wait. It wasn't hard to do.

Pan felt a breeze against her face, and realized the sun was falling down the horizon. Of course. Her thinking time was up now. She just had to do it.

Pan picked up her weights, and flew back inside the compound. Vegeta would give her an earful, but since they didn't bother to look for her, she guessed it didn't matter. He knew her skill level already. Tomorrow, he'd just push her harder and she wouldn't complain. She probably deserved it.

She thought it was best to wash off the chlorine before finding the others. It was hard to explain that she went swimming instead of not keeping a promise. She quickly headed for her room, stripped off her clothes, and rinsed off. Taking no time to be in any more water for today, Pan got dressed and headed outside to search for everyone else.

Flying and patting your hair dry with a towel wasn't a simple task as one would've hoped. So, she decided to run and pat her hair dry. Unfortunately, that wasn't a better option.

Pan headbutted the first person who was walking towards the hall. She blushed when she was on top of Bra, and her notebook's pages were all scattered over the tiles. "Shit," Pan cursed, grabbing as many papers as she could into a bundle as Bra neatly stacked hers by page order. The younger girl grimaced at the ball that was handed to her. Pan added with an awkward chuckle, "Uh, I'm sorry."

"How are you even a real person?" Bra shook her head, trying to flatten the ball as much as she could. Her eyes betrayed her and caught a glimpse of the older girl haphazardly crunching her hair with a towel. "Did you go swimming… or something?"

The older girl blinked. "Yeah. I wasn't in the mood to train today."

Bra snorted, " _You_? Not training?"

Pan raised a brow with a crooked smile, "You stealing your mom's notebook?"

Bra rewrapped the notebook, and Pan helped her up with a wet hand. Bra knew she should've returned the book sooner immediately, but she felt no rush to. She instead said, "I guess neither of us have been acting the way we should."

"I guess not," Pan only offered. She wanted to say something else, but the words weren't finding her lips. This was pride, and she didn't like it as much, but she couldn't help herself. She nodded to the other girl and made way.

Bra reached for her wrist before she passed. She didn't know why, but it was almost instinctual. It was what she should've done earlier, she thought. Her voice was quiet, but no one else needed to hear her anyway.

"Pan?" said Bra.

She was taken aback by the touch, but she didn't break it. Pan gestured for her to continue.

"This… we're going to need to work with each other for what's to come," she began. "I don't know how the others will fight, but I know you and I know me. We're stronger and smarter than what people expect of us."

"Bra..." Pan started, and before she could say anything else, she swallowed her words.

"I know we're not friends right now. I don't expect you to forgive me that quickly, but make it sooner than later, yeah? When this is over and it's spring, I want to go to Paris with you again. Just us, like how we did your prom. I miss our trips," and within the next minute, Bra let go and flew to Bulma's office.

Pan stood there as she left. She gripped her towel, feeling the need to hold onto something. Then, she let go because she had to. For now, she had to. She'd keep her promise for later though. The future was theirs, not anybody else's. Six months wasn't a long time.

She thought to head immediately to the living room where the older fighters had come to meet, but then decided she didn't want the last memory of being together with everyone else. They would have that, at least.

Pan turned around and flew to his room as fast as she could. She would've knocked, but the door was already on the floor. She cautiously walked in, hearing the shower turn off. This was it.

* * *

Training was intense. He didn't expect any less.

Trunks let the water hit his face before stretching his neck, so it would drip against his chest. Pan didn't make it to training, but he guess that was best. If she was there, then his words wouldn't have been as clear. He wouldn't have been as stubborn on his decision as he was now.

He wanted to fight.

Not just six months from now, but now. Here. With her. _For_ her.

It was only six months, so what difference did it make? It didn't matter if they were together or not; they would figure it out together. That was the _point_ of being together. What best was it to be apart? Especially now when they needed each other the most. It didn't make sense. It was nonsense, he decided.

He turned off the water. He could sense her. Good. He wanted to talk to her before they met with everyone else. Six months was just too long to be apart, and their relationship was their business. Nobody else's.

Enemies, fathers… no one else's.

* * *

Pan felt her heart race as the doorknob twisted.

Suddenly, she wished time stopped.

* * *

Trunks felt his heart race; he was pumped for this.

He wanted nothing but for time to go forward.

They had each other. That was enough for him.

* * *

She was crying. She didn't know why, but she just was. He didn't even say two words yet. How ridiculous was that?

Goten rushed to comfort Marron, hushing her until she was silent. She apologized for being such a mess. Then she laughed, "I'm sorry. I just didn't know what being alone with you would feel like and… I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I kind of went off the grid back at the lounge. _I_ should say sorry," he offered before his eyes trailed the bruise on her cheek. He grimaced. "Actually, I'm really sorry about that."

Marron waved a dismissive hand. "We were with Vegeta. I didn't expect you to hold back," she said. "I guess we've never really fought like that. Sparring, I mean. Usually I'm cheering you on in the stands."

"Yeah, I guess I went to Trunks for punches and you for kisses when we were growing up. I actually think you knocked a tooth loose," he said, rubbing his cheek. Marron's eyes widen.

"Oh, _no_! You hate our dentist," she gasped as she reached for his face. Goten studied her eyes, staring at him with childlike wonder. She examined his face as he continued to look at her unusual eyes.

They were a strange gradient. Brown on top and blue at the bottom. He'd never seen anything like it. Over time, he'd seen hazel eyes that would have the same effect (almost), but they were always green with some yellowish light brown. Unlike hers. Marron's eyes were the deepest shade of brown, and the truest blue. Not too light or dark, but what you think of when you thought of blue. However, color wasn't what them different.

It was how she looked at him that was different. Like he was something worthwhile, and she would never get over it. It made him feel good. Needed, almost. It was the kind of look that every ego should be graced with at least once because the person attached to them was even better. She made him better.

Then, he caught a glimpse of her ring on her necklace and felt like it was wrong. He shouldn't have returned it. At least, not through another person. Uub said she understood, but then he realized he went about it like such a fool. In all honesty, he didn't understand why she didn't give it back. He didn't deserve it.

Marron followed the trail of his eyes and smiled at the perfect circle hanging from her chain. She took the hand from his face and touched it. She was so happy when Uub came to deliver it at the lounge; it was the reason why she was so hopeful. So much so, she spent three days with Bra just talking about how excited she was.

"I didn't want to wear it on my finger just in case I had to punch something. I mean, I don't think you all have the type of skin to break a diamond but I just had to be careful because—oh, I'm rambling, aren't I?" Marron blushed.

Goten smiled, "No, go ahead! I like when you talk a lot— _uh_ , not that you talk a lot or anything."

"It's alright. I know I tend to just—," she paused, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. Let's just start over, can we? I know we need to talk about us and everything, and not to mention, this new _Frieza has a son_ deal."

"Is that why you were crying?" he asked blankly. Marron shook her head.

"I was crying because I missed you, silly! I… I was scared that things changed between us," she added another, "I'm sorry," as if the thought of him not loving her was ever a question. "Look, I don't care who else you've kissed—"

Then, as if all at once, he remembered _her_. The one person who could bring out his worst. He remembered the fireplace, and the abandoned cabin. He remembered thinking that was _almost_ the person he married. He remembered thinking he almost did more than kiss, but then, well, Pan kind of shot that down immediately.

He felt tense now. He _really_ didn't deserve Marron.

"Marron, I'm not here to get back with you," he forced out, and she went silent.

"But the ring… you gave it back—"

"Yeah because it was a gift. It's… it's not mine to keep," he said, and it felt like a lame cop out. He wasn't thinking when he asked Uub to give it back to her. He only did because the other one didn't want him. That wasn't fair. "I.. I just came to make sure you know what it meant. That's why I had Uub give it to you."

"You're lying, Goten. I know when you're lying!" Marron pounded on his chest. "Don't lie to me!"

"It's the truth!" he responded, grabbing onto her fists. "When I saw you wear it in the GR, I thought I had to clarify!"

" _Bullshit_!" she called out, and he knew he had to sell it.

Goten said nothing. He gave her a stern look as if he was warning her to not push him. He then kept chanting he hated her in his head just in case she could read minds. He needed to believe it too. This wasn't easy. She was crying again, and his stomach twisted. She asked him why he was being so cold, and he pushed her off.

"Look, I just don't want to be with you anymore, okay?" he turned around to face the door instead.

"I don't get why you hate me so much. Was what I did really that bad?" she begged for him to answer. "Are you so turned off by me that you can't even look at me anymore? _Goten_!"

"We're over—just get it through your head!" he barked back. She went quiet at his loud tone. Before she could reply, he slammed the door and left.

Marron felt the pit of her stomach drop at the same rate of her knees. She held a fist at the chain around her neck and pulled it off. What was once her hope was just a symbol of her worst mistake. The ring was a curse.

She threw it against the metal door and didn't care if it penetrated through effortlessly. She didn't care that the smallest hole could make her cries audible to the whole hallway. She didn't care if they had other things to worry about. Right now, she just wanted to cry, and cry some more.

* * *

Her voice was caught in her throat as soon as he stepped out. He was in a towel, and a small drop of water was falling from his hair. She swore if she was to recall this later, she would remember every detail of it. Her palms were sweating, and she thought her lips formed a smile but it wasn't quite there.

For every step he took, her breaths felt heavier. Her insides were moving so fast, but the time was slowing down. It was odd. It was nervousness. It was a dream, and it was waking up at the same time. That surreal feeling mixed with the rush of reality. She wasn't sure if she was hearing her pulse or every frequency in the room.

"Don't… please," Pan dismissed before he was even closer. He was only a meter away, but she could feel him. His hands. His fingers. His _touch_. Suddenly, he was too close. She took a step back.

Trunks furrowed his brows at the gesture, but respected it nonetheless. He coughed, "Everything alright?"

She crossed her arms and pulled the sleeves of her shirt to cover her palms. She was staring at him, but not just him—the bathroom door, the wallpaper, the bedsheets, the broken lamp… Pan blinked to make sure she wasn't seeing things. She tried to avoid the subject, "Wh-what happened there?"

Pan nodded to the wrecked light fixture and Trunks shrugged. "I..." he then dismissed the thought. "Nothing. I was just upset, and I forgot my strength."

"That's not like—"

"I'll replace it," he cut her off. He knew he shouldn't have, but something wasn't right. Her tone was different. It was almost timid. She didn't even get pissed when he interrupted her. He then noticed her wet hair. "You didn't come to training. Where'd you go?"

"The pool," she answered.

"Thinking?" he asked.

"Surprisingly."

"About?"

"Things."

"And?"

"Stuff."

Trunks opened up his mouth, but then decided he didn't want another short answer. He brushed past her to reach his closet for a change of clothes. Pan stayed still. She didn't even turn around.

She felt like a coward. She had come all this way, and she couldn't even say it. Her fingers intertwined with the dampened fabric in her hands. She wanted to pull the towel apart in frustration, as if that would help the words come out better. It didn't.

As he pulled his shirt over his head, he watched her walk over to his bed to sit. She gripped a towel, and then she folded it beside her. Her hands ran up and down her thighs. Then she stopped once she saw him watching her. Now she was waiting for him. Trunks walked in front of her, but he didn't sit. He stood.

She had to look up at him, and it made her feel smaller than she already felt. She wanted to reach for his hand, but then decided that she shouldn't. Not for his sake, but for hers.

"I've been thinking," Pan begun.

"So I've heard," Trunks observed.

"Don't tell the paps, but the World Champion has cancer. He doesn't want chemo," she said, testing the waters.

Trunks fell to his knees with a concerned look on his face. He tried to reach for her hand, but she retreated it. She probably didn't want to be touched, and he would respect that. "I'm sorry, Pan," he said and he meant it.

"Don't be. I'm not even surprised anymore. It is what it is," she shrugged before fidgeting with fingers. "My dad wants me to go train in the Time Chamber. Not now, but in a few months time because everyone's going to catch up with my training soon. I need the challenge, and a year would help me a lot."

He didn't know how to respond to that. She was the most dedicated fighter he had known, and he never thought she'd be a goal to surpass. If anything, he thought she was going to be their trump card. Now he was uneasy. Trunks asked, "Do you think that's good? For you, I mean."

"I'm not like you guys. My blood's… it's different for me. I'm more earthling than Saiyan, so I have to work harder. I mean, I've only been ahead because I push myself every day for years—but I see it, you know? How quickly you, Bra and Goten catch up within not even an eighth of the time. So I get it," she explained. Kind of. She hoped that made more sense to him than it did her.

Trunks nodded, "Do you plan on going alone?"

"I haven't decided," she faintly smiled. Then, she stopped. He wished she hadn't; he liked her smile, even when it wasn't as full as it was just then. He would rather have that than… _this_. Whatever this was. Pan then her face away. "The only thing I know what I want is that I want to fight, Trunks."

"And we'll fight together," he said. This time, he actually did grab her hands. The sensation went through her whole body, from her fingertips to the soles of her feet. Her stomach felt warm. She couldn't tell if she wanted to puke or thought the sentiment was sweet. Maybe it was both. She was never a romantic, anyway.

Pan took back her hands, and his palms touched her thighs. She then stood up and created distance between them. It was for the best, she reminded herself. "I can't fight if I'm with you, Trunks. I… you make me weak, and I don't want to be weak. I can't be weak."

"I'm not understanding what's going on here," he said to her back. She couldn't face him, and she thought it was for the best. Her eyes would give her away, and she had to be strong.

"I can't be with you, Trunks. Not right now," she clarified, trying to level her uneven voice. "There's other—"

She stopped at the sensation pooling at her legs. It was him. Trunks was holding onto her, and hugging her legs as if letting go wasn't an option. She tensed at the feeling.

"Don't do this. Please," he asked of her. Begging almost. "Pan, I swear if you walk away now, then there's no going back. I'm not waiting again… _please_."

"Trunks, let me go… now."

"No! I'm not going to unless this is what you really want. If we're breaking up now, then that's it. I can't be just your friend anymore. I… " he paused and swallowed his words. "I just can't."

"Trunks, let me go," she repeated.

"I know why you're doing this, and it's bullshit, Pan. You're going to let an unknown future determine what happens with us? You're willing to be over this that fast? Because I'm not. I don't care. I want to _be_ with you!"

"Let me go!" she demanded.

"You think I make you weak? What you're doing now is weak! It's cowardly and you—"

" _Leave me alone_!" she kicked him off, and he hit the edge of his bed.

Trunks rubbed the back of his head, and Pan finally turned around, clenching her fists. She was crying, but she didn't cry. She was pissed with tear-stained cheeks. He couldn't tell if she wanted to scream, or if she wanted to wail. Trunks could've gone with either; he just wanted something. Anything but this.

"This isn't enough for me anymore, okay?! I don't want to be with you, and if you can't be my friend, then fine!" Pan shouted. "You want to make this harder than what it needs to be? Then have it your way. I'm leaving, Trunks. Don't stop me."

"This isn't—"

" _Don't_!" she warned, and before he could tell her to stay, his balcony doors swung open and a gust of wind tousled his hair.

Trunks cursed and slammed his elbow behind him. He then cursed again at the broken bed frame.

* * *

 _End_.


	13. Part I - Chapter 13

_Between Friends_ —

Rated: M (for obvious reasons)

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything related to the DragonBall franchise.

Summary: Another adulthood-esque fic. Identity crises & long talks.

Pairings: Trunks/Pan. Goten/Marron. Bra/Uub.

Note: Hi, this is my first DBZ-related fic and I doubt I'll ever figure out the plot completely. Writing as we go! ( **08/2016 Updates** : new formatting and rewrites on previous chapters. _All_ previous replied reviews  & author notes have been posted on my Tumblr page. I just wanted to focus on the writing, please.) **Also** , again, I know Chichi and Goku live in Mount Paozu in the series but in this fic, they live with Ox King and his castle!

 **Fun Fact** : White tulips mean forgiveness and blue hyacinths mean loyalty and sincerity :)

 **Additional Note** : I've been having a hard couple of months, which is why updates went from weekly to monthly (hopefully!). I'll keep continuing this until I'm finished with it, even if it takes me years (which I hope it doesn't oh my god), but right now I'm rereading everything and catching up on what I left you all with (sorry!) but here's a chapter which hopefully makes your Halloween's swell!

* * *

 ** _CHAPTER 13_  
** Last Day of July | 156 Days Before

She had spent the rest of summer in this hyper-focused state. If she wasn't training at Earth's Lookout, then Pan was training in the mountains or training in her grandfather's private gym (which had been temporarily abandoned due to his permanent move to a hospital bed). Her days were routine; only consisting of waking up, working out from sunrise to sunset, taking a shower, and then sleeping. Not that any of it was new, but from the look of her thinned out muscles and heavy lilac undereye, it was curious if she was pushing herself more than usual.

Today, she had been exerting herself again in the mountains without a live person in sight. (Technically, they were dead, so he wasn't sure if they counted.) Though from one perspective, her dedication was simply outstanding for anybody to witness. Every time she fell, she got right back up, despite spitting out blood or even teeth. However, from a warrior's standpoint, she was becoming extremely sloppy.

"Look at that! She can't even throw a proper punch. It's pathetic," Kaje criticized. Zeeko touched his rib, feeling the impact of the copied Pan's punch on the original Pan.

"I thought you wanted her to die," Zeeko grimaced. By now, he had built some kind of endurance to the pain; but day by day, Pan pushed herself more and more without proper care and her body was beginning to weaken because of it. "So she could join us and all. You're taking it way too personally."

Kaje snapped, "Of course, I'm taking it seriously! My bastard brother gave away my planet's loyalty to some space lizard! Do you know how _insulting_ that is to my legacy? Especially after what _I_ did when Frieza tried to force us to Namek. It's disgusting."

Zeeko stared at her dully; half because he didn't know whether or not to take her seriously, and the other half because he couldn't really make any other face while Pan was beating herself to death. He reminded, "Didn't you kill a big chunk of your people just so you can be queen anyway?"

"First of all, it was only a chunk of our _first-class_ warriors. There were plenty of people left, my inconsiderate brother as one of them. If any of them were strong enough to hold the position, they could've killed me as easily but they didn't, so shut up."

"You're such an optimist," he jeered. She rolled her eyes.

"Don't even start. If any of us have been in a pissy mood lately, it's been you and only you. Fadel wouldn't have let us come to Earth alone before, and now we've been here almost every day because he can't stand your poor attitude," she told him bluntly. "You're practically making me look like a saint."

"Can't help—" he stopped as he felt his shoulder burning. Kaje even stopped talking to watch Pan dislocate her shoulder and pop it back on as if it was nothing at all. She resumed training.

Kaje turned to him, smiling smugly instead of feeling any kind of empathy. "I told you to shut up."

"I hate you."

Then, almost as if on cue, Pan went and unintentionally hurt herself again. This time, it was her leg. She was lucky enough to know how to fly somewhere else, but they wondered if that was enough to make her stop.

* * *

Trunks, like his parents, was ambitious. Once he was set on something, his attention was nowhere else. So after six weeks of vacation with nothing else to do—no company to manage, no girlfriend to kiss, no interest in anything or anybody else—to say the least, it wasn't surprising that the dedication he put into training was paying off.

His build was leaner, like he was twenty again and could eat six greasy burgers without worrying about his health. He sculpted muscles in places he wasn't aware a person could sculpt muscles in. He always took care of himself, but he never looked as great as he did now. Honestly. He was even health conscious of the food he was eating.

" _Whoa_ ," Marron piqued.

Trunks quickly turned around to shield his bare upper body with his arms, feeling a bit shyer than usual. (Truthfully, he wondered if the staff purposely left his bedroom door broken for situations like these.) He was wearing pants, but still.

"What?" he asked, and she walked in without any regard to personal space. The blonde grabbed a strand of his hair to examine it.

"Your hair's turning grey!" she said excitedly, as if it was no big deal at all. Trunks quickly turned around to his closet mirror to make sure she wasn't lying. She wasn't. He was devastated. Marron blinked, "Did I say something wrong?"

"I'm getting old!" he groaned dramatically.

"Well, yeah, I think that's how time works."

"You're not funny, Marron."

He sunk to the floor, and the blonde let out a sigh and joined her friend, deciding to wait out his inner monologue. In the short time that they had spent together this summer, she quickly learned that the calm, cool, and collected Trunks was only a figment of her imagination.

"Are you done yet?" she asked as he pressed the back of his hand to his temple, pretending to have fainted. He opened a single eye and smirked smugly. Just like that, he was back.

Trunks relaxed his shoulders, sighing, "My hair isn't really turning grey, is it?"

"If it helps, it was a purple-ish silver before. Now it's just turning blue-grey," she hoped it sufficed.

"Fine," he accepted. He then looked back at her. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought my father cut back training since we're going back to work tomorrow."

The smile on her lips faded quickly. He then remembered what the first of August signified. Tomorrow was meant to be her wedding day, and now it was just a regular day.

Marron quickly brushed it off, changing the subject. "Actually, I came here to tell you that she's back, Trunks. She broke her leg, and she's at the hospital now. She's in bad shape, I guess. Vegeta and Bra left to go see her."

He paused, not needing to be told who the _she_ and _her_ was. He was trying his best to not react to the _bad shape_ part either. It was the first time any of them had heard from her for weeks. As Pan fashion, she left without much of a goodbye. He guessed he could understand why. He certainly wasn't ready to say hello again.

Marron studied him, unable to read whatever was on his mind. Both of them hadn't had much contact with their exes. After that night, it was decided that the teaching would be split between Vegeta and Goku. She, Trunks, and Bra stayed with the former, while Goten and Uub left with the latter. They would've left to find Pan, but Vegeta insisted she would be fine on her own. She hadn't been home since.

The blond coughed, deciding the silence was too long. She added, "Goten's going to be there, of course. She is his family. I wanted to go, but I didn't want to face him alone."

Trunks snapped out his thoughts, finally seeing the little ring box in between her hands. Marron wanted to return it, and she needed support. He suddenly felt selfish.

"They're at the West City Hospital?" he asked, rising from his seat on the floor and offering a hand. Marron nodded, taking the help. "Then let's go."

* * *

"Sorry, sir. She's only permitted family and listed emergency contacts. You are neith—"

"Well, check again!" Vegeta spat at the nurse. Bra pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Papa, you're so embarrassing," she grumbled. Though she had to admit, he was actually being more polite than usual by _asking_ to see her instead of barging inside the hospital room. Even she could sense the entire Son family on the thirteenth floor. It wasn't hard to miss. Uub was already in there too.

Vegeta held up a fist, and Bra rushed to put it down. She apologetically asked the nurse to check again. "Sorry, about him. I should be listed as an emergency contact though. I'm Bra Briefs."

"Identification please, miss," the nurse asked and she reached for her wallet. They checked for her name on a tilted computer screen, and Bra couldn't help but be nosy as she waited. Her name was the second name listed, right after Trunks and before Marron. She guessed it hadn't been updated from the last time they were accidentally here (years ago).

The nurse handed her back her ID and the automatic door opened. They told her the room number and didn't bother to stop Vegeta from following.

In the elevator, the old man turned to his daughter. He asked, "You could have came in easily, couldn't you?"

"You're the one who told me that you'll get us in after I offered," she smiled, and his lips actually curved.

They made it to the floor, and to no surprise, Bulma had already beat them with Chichi. They were waiting outside the room with everyone else besides Gohan and Videl, who had asked for privacy. Another old man was ecstatic to see her father.

"Hey, Vegeta!" Goku called out, catching everyone's attention.

The old man grunted, refusing to respond. He looked towards Chichi and his wife instead. "Why didn't she go to the little Namek instead?" he asked the women.

"It's for her own good," Piccolo emerged from his seat. Bra blushed, actually feeling embarassed of how much space they were taking from the medical personnel. Vegeta turned to him.

"What about those beans? Why are we allowing her to just stay in there!" Vegeta argued rather than asked.

"If Dende and Korin refused to help her, then we can't doubt their reasoning. She tends to be stubborn unless someone steps in," Piccolo explained like some fortune cookie. Vegeta rolled his eyes, and Chichi came between them to intervene the conversation.

"Well, look on the bright side, if they hadn't made her come to the hospital, then she would have never come home. Would she?" she asked, and it was hard to argue with that logic.

It was in the next minute, Gohan had opened the door and encouraged for everyone to come in. The greeting ranged from to questioning how hard she must have trained to being relieved to see that Pan was alright. Bra noticed the hesitant smile she forced, and how Videl left the room. She didn't say anything about it though.

A whistle came from the board of x-rays aligned in the opposite side of the room. Goten turned to his niece, "You fractured just about everything. That must suck, dude."

"Goten, language!" Chichi scolded, causing Pan to laugh and groan. She guessed it was hard to laugh with broken ribs.

"It was worth it," Pan coughed, adjusting her seat. Vegeta then pushed everyone out of the way so he could examine her himself, as if he was a professional opinion.

"Girl, you look like shit," the old man concluded, earning a backhanded slap from Bulma. That didn't stop him. "Have you been eating or even sleeping? You look like you've died, and didn't do a good job at coming back."

"I guess you would know, huh?" she giggled, then groaned again. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.

Marron peeked her head inside. "Can I come in?"

"If you could fit," Bulma encouraged, and the blonde came inside with a bouquet of white lilies and blue hyacinths, and that's it. Bra was a bit disappointed.

"I bought flowers," Marron announced.

Pan smiled. "Bring them over here, please. Can someone crack a window? It smells like a rotten meat locker."

* * *

He held the unsigned card between his fingers as he leaned against the building. He couldn't believe he stopped to get her flowers, as if it nothing had happened at all.

But he guessed, it didn't matter. He chickened out on going up anyway. Marron said it was fine, even insisted that she take the flowers anyway, but it wasn't hard to see the disappointment in her face. He said he would wait for her afterwards, and she was thankful for that.

So now, Trunks was waiting outside the hospital, holding a small blank card, leaning against the building, and hoping that sunglasses would be a decent enough disguise for the paparazzi waiting for any shocking story. West City was enthusiastic for celebrity news, but not a lot of entertainers lived here like Satan City. (Though, that had changed when the sick World Champion was transferred here a month ago.)

A woman came crying outside, but they ignored it. Trunks couldn't help but notice her; it was hard to ignore a familiar face. His stomach twisted as she passed him, but he followed anyway, feeling it was the right thing to do.

Videl found a bench on the side of the hospital, away from any personnel and of people, really. She sat down and brought her knees to her face, sobbing some more. She only looked up when a hand tapped her shoulder. Trunks handed her the tissues he always had in his pockets.

"Can I sit?" he asked, and the older woman nodded. She quickly wiped her face and took a deep breath.

"Trunks," Videl forced a smile. "Thank you."

"It's no problem," he insisted, sitting down beside her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she looked like she had been harboring some thoughts of her own for a while.

"They're so alike! It makes me so frustrated!" she admitted, crumpling the tissue in her hand. Before he could ask, she added, "My dad doesn't want help, and neither does my daughter. Now look at them! They're both in the hospital because they wait and wait until they're on the brink of death to get help—and even then, it's because someone makes them do it!"

He reached out a hand for her, feeling it was the proper thing to do. Then he stopped. Videl took another breath, shaking her head slightly, and looking towards the afternoon sun. She held a fist tightly on her lap, and then released it.

For a moment, he put their ages into perspective. Videl was nearly a decade older than him, and the crinkles near her eyes proved a life of various emotional expressions. She was definitely wiser than he would ever be. There were things she only saw that he would never and not yet see; experience she would only have.

He then thought of Pan, who was over a decade his junior. Her youth was abundant in her plump skin, easily healed bruises, and curious eyes for something more to learn. She also was the most painfully aware person he knew though. Her intelligence wasn't due to time, but because she liked to observe things, and form her own proper thoughts. She was wise in her own way, but she was also more bullheaded than anybody else—but he couldn't blame her; it was young arrogance trying to argue whether or not being an optimist or a pessimist was better, but forgetting you needed more than one perspective to truly live.

Maybe that's why he wasn't upset in the past few weeks, or not as bothered as he was expected to be. Maturity was not accepting everything you disagree with for the sake of compromise, but understanding that there were things you can't help and going on anyway. Then if it found its way again, it would. Something like that.

Videl's voice broke through his thoughts, even though it was as quiet as he had ever heard it. She softly spoke, "Gohan's upset with me right now because I snapped at her, but it's not her fault," she paused to catch her breath. "I just let it all build up, you know? After my mom died, my dad was so set on becoming World Champion so he could provide for me, but we never talked. He never asked me about school or anything like that. I just had to be strong, strong like him. I think that's where she learned it from..." she paused.

Trunks shifted, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "If it helps, you would have definitely won against Spopovich if he wasn't possessed by a wizard. By our standards, you were the strongest human if you don't count androids as humans," he offered, and she finally let out a laugh. It was short, but sweet, like she was recalling a fond memory. He cracked his own smile, feeling a bit relieved.

"I guess you're right. Thanks," Videl said, looking towards her younger. "I'm sorry. I must look crazy, don't I? Yelling, crying, and then laughing all in the same minute. Nonetheless, confessing to you of all people."

"It's no problem," he shrugged, taking no offense. "I guess I should apologize. I'm the one who made it awkward by—" he coughed. "— _you know_."

"Dating my daughter?" Videl snarked.

Trunks rolled his eyes dully. "I meant by following you but," he chuckled, "I guess I did that too. In her defense though, she broke up with me."

"I'm sorry for that, by the way. I told your dad and my husband they were idiots for intervening. They shouldn't have done that," she admitted, but Trunks only shrugged again.

"It's alright. Even if they did, she wouldn't respect me if I thought it was anybody's decision but hers," he leaned against the bench, tilting his sunglasses on his nose. "That's one of the reasons why I've always admired her. Besides what she gained from you and Gohan, I can't say she hasn't been anybody but herself. It's kind of terrifying."

Videl chuckled, "You think so?"

"I know so," he nodded. "She may do things for other people, but she only lives for herself. Not a lot of people can do that; nonetheless, do it in a way that isn't offensive. I know I can't. I wouldn't have my company if I did."

He ended with that, but that was enough for Videl. They didn't need to speak for the remaining time they sat. Nothing would leave the bench.

Eventually, she went back inside and he called Marron to tell her to meet him at a restaurant, offering to buy her any dessert she wanted after returning the ring. She responded quickly that they should meet at a bar instead.

* * *

By the time the room became claustrophobic to when they decided to have a spontaneous family dinner without her, it was dark out and the medical staff was relieved to be able to check on their patient without being rude to the many guests.

"I don't think we've seen a family quite like yours," the doctor laughed as she pressed a hand against Pan's shoulder. "Now does this hurt?"

She winced a bit. "No offense, doc, but everything kind of hurts," Pan admitted, laughing despite the pain. "I shouldn't laugh. I'm sorry. I messed it up, didn't I?"

"I'll be honest with you, I'm surprised you're alive at all. I've treated plenty of martial artists, but no one has had as much remodeling as _your_ bones. It takes centuries to build this kind of endurance, and you're only twenty-two," she explained, restrapping the arm sling. "But you're relocating wasn't so bad. It won't need surgery. I'm assuming this isn't the first time though."

"You've seen my bones so there's no point of lying to you," she smiled, causing the doctor to laugh. A nurse came with food tray, but she didn't want to eat it. Not because she didn't like hospital food, but because she hadn't had much of an appetite. The doctor told him to leave it anyway, and the nurse scurried off.

"Eating will make you feel better," the doctor encouraged, putting away the supplies she brought out. "I promise we have a better chef on call than we used to."

Pan shook her head. "I'm not really hungry," she said before adding, "It smells great, but I haven't had much an appetite as of late. I'm not dieting, I swear."

The doctor nodded. "You know, usually when people swear they haven't done something, then that's exactly what they've done. However as an athlete, especially one with an intense regimen than most, I'm trusting you are aware how important it is to eat well," she questioned, rather than expected.

"Trust me, I can eat," Pan assured her. "I mean, just right now, I haven't been craving food as much as I usually do, even after I work out."

"I see," she observed, taking off her gloves. "So, what's his name?"

Pan blinked, "Huh?"

"The one you can't be with," she answered simply. "We all tend to forget how to take care of ourselves when our mind's occupied by someone else. As a doctor, I notice we tend to pass off certain symptoms as diseases than the obvious."

"How do you know it's a _he_?" Pan joked, more to avoid the subject than anything. However, at the same time, she didn't feel like she needed to. There was doctor-patient confidentiality, after all.

"Is it? It would explain the girl in the bathroom," the doctor observed, and not to Pan's prior knowledge, Bra was still here.

"Nothing gets past you, does it?" the young heiress awkwardly scratched her head. Thankfully, the insightful doctor only pretended to look away from the obvious _no visitors_ time. Bra walked over to the seat by Pan's bed.

"You know what? I'm not even surprised," Pan shook her head, turning back to the doctor. "Not my girlfriend, and I'm not even sure if she should still be my best friend."

"Well, take it from me, people who break the rules for you are either delusional, or they genuinely care for you than most," she said, taking her chart from the counter. "If she's delusional, call security. If not, talk to her. She'll help you find your appetite again."

"You're leaving?" Bra asked.

"I'm just her doctor. You're her best friend," and with that, she left the room with the two girls, even pulling the door's shade down for privacy. The older girl averted her eyes to her rule-breaking younger. Also, to no surprise, Bra held two senzu beans in her hand with a smile.

"Papa gave me these before they left," Bra said, placing the two beans in her palm. "He said you owe him."

Pan frowned. "I don't want to owe him shit."

"That's what I thought you would say," she said, flicking the beans into the trash across the room. The metal clanked as they dropped one by one. "How long do you plan on staying?"

"Dende said I could visit him in five days. I don't need surgery so I'll probably be discharged tomorrow. Quick, how pissed off is everyone at me?"

" _Ooh_ , that's a good one," Bra took a moment to analyze. She then concluded bluntly within the next beat, "No one because the world doesn't revolve around you."

"Thanks."

"That is," she interrupted. "if you don't count your dying grandfather, your entire publicist team who relocated a month ago when they heard you were in town, me obviously, and just about every fighter at the Satan Gym who was passed up to be World Champ because of nepotism. Not to mention, your old college buddies who have been trying to sell your partying pictures to the tabloids, but I've bought them out for the most part. You're buying me lunch for the rest of our lives, by the way. Also, did I mention that your grandfather is dying?"

"Why does everyone think I'm that heartless? I've kept in touch with him. I was staying at his place in Satan City with Buu the entire time I was gone," Pan answered, as if that was enough to suffice. She then looked towards the ceiling, as if she was making some kind of list. "I'll meet with the PR team when I'm back home, and I'll set up a tournament I guess. Hell, I'll fight them tomorrow if they want..."

She went on to list more things, but by the time she was reminding herself to get pictures developed from a camera she hadn't touched since the lounge, Bra walked over to the food tray and was surprised that it all looked fairly edible. She jumped beside Pan, despite the wincing, and opened a jello cup.

"Wait, I like that one," Pan stopped to stare at the red-colored dessert. Without any warning, Bra scooped a spoonful and stuffed it in the older girl's mouth.

"Calm down, will you? They know you've checked in the hospital. They want you to rest. Satan's on the second floor, but we could visit him in the morning. I was joking. No one's angry. They're just concerned when you disappear like that," the younger said, taking off the cover for the pasta and mixed vegetables.

After the jello cup, Pan finally realized how hungry she was. She ate everything, not even leaving a crumb on the dish. Bra thought she would've eaten the plate if she hadn't flew out the window to get whatever takeout place was nearby. When she was finally satisfied, the older girl burped into her hand, careless of how much it hurt for a stomach to grumble while having broken ribs.

"You're still hungry, aren't you?" Bra asked.

"I'm full, not stuffed," Pan answered.

The younger shook her head before flying back out the window, and throwing away all the trash. The nurse had came back in to retrieve the tray and turn off the overhead lights. She snuck back in and waited for Pan to turn on her headboard light.

"Is it bad that I was hoping Trunks would show up?" the older girl started, settling back onto the bed comfortably. "I know it sounds stupid and attention-seeking, but a part of me wishes he heard and came anyway. I know it sounds so selfish."

Bra stared at her dully, turning to the flowers before looking back at her. She asked, "Even if he did, what would you even say?"

Pan thought about it for about, at best, two seconds, before staring at her as if it wasn't obvious. "I'll say that I'm sorry, of course. For overreacting, and handling things the way I did."

"And that's all?" Bra raised a brow.

"What else is there?" Pan shrugged one shoulder. "I still can't be with him while I'm training."

"You can't, or you won't?" she questioned.

"I _won't_ ," she corrected without hesitation. Bra listened attentively as she continued. "I didn't end things because of my dad or Vegeta. They had great points, but a part of me agreed because that's how I felt too. It's not that I believe love makes you weak, because I don't, but because I don't want to rely on it. I want to know what I'm capable of on my own.

"I know it feels like I don't care about anything else, and I probably am neglecting things, but that doesn't change how I feel. I still want to work on myself, and by myself. I care for him, I really do, but I refuse to give him a part of me because he's willing to take whatever he could get. I don't want that for him. I know how I want to love and how I want to be loved, and right now, I can't do that," Pan finished without raising her voice once. It was different from Bra had known. It was calm and steady, and overall—well, truthfully, it made her a bit sad, but she put on a brave face anyway.

"I understand, but Pan," Bra paused, not breaking her stare. "I know you want to do all these things by yourself, but we're not here to take that away from you. I just want you to see that. You can have your independence, but don't sacrifice yourself because of it. It's alright to not know everything—I should know, it's my job and I'm never satisfied with anything. There's always more to see, but sometimes that makes you overlook the things right in front of you. There's _so much_ right in front of you."

* * *

Her phone rang, but she ignored it. She would meet up with Trunks in a bit, but for now, she was engulfed by nostalgia and disappointment as she sat by the pond where she once fished. The ring was out of its box, and dancing between her fingers.

Marron thought to throw it in the water, and then hope a fish ate it so she wouldn't have to deal with it. She was such a chicken. She ran into, and even talked to, Goten so many times today and not once did she had given back the ring. She knew it was _her_ mother's, but she shouldn't be the one to give it back. _He's_ the one who asked for it; _he_ should return it.

"Mare?"

 _Speak of the devil_ , she cursed in her head.

Marron turned around, and there he was so casually. She hated that with a passion. He looked so fine, so alright, so _normal_ without her. Like she never really belonged with him in the first place. Maybe she never did.

"What, Goten!?" the blonde spat, anger being the most prominent emotion in her tone than everything else she was feeling.

" _Geez_! I just came to tell you that Trunks was asking for you. He said he called you three times and you didn't answer," he said, stepping towards her and handing his phone over. "He said call back."

"My phone isn't dead," she turned away. "If he calls, tell him I'll meet him but I'm haven't finished doing the thing I set out to do."

"If your phone isn't dead, why don't you call him yourself? I'm not your secretary."

"No, you're not. You're just a jerk who won't take back this stupid ring!" she said. Begrudgingly, out loud where he could _hear_ her.

"What?" he piqued dumbfoundedly. Then, in the fastest second in all of time, Marron turned around and threw the ring at him with all her might. It hit his chest hard before it dropped into the grass.

"Take back this stupid ring! I don't want it! How could you even think I would want it back after you told me you don't want to be with me anymore?! You're so stupid!" the blonde yelled.

When he finally noticed what she had thrown, he picked it off the ground. When he looked back up, she was holding her fists, practically shaking.

"I feel humiliated, and I _hate_ that you make me feel that way! I hate how just like that, you've taken every single good memory I've had and turned it into being stupid about a boy. I hate how you've taken a chunk of my life and just—you can't just be there and just leave like it's nothing! How is that _fair_?" she pleaded rather than asked. "If you're still pissed off because I left for one summer, then fine. You win. I don't want to play anymore."

"It's not like—" Before he could finish, her phone rang. She picked it up, and said she would be there in twenty minutes. Goten began to speak again, but she cut him off.

"I don't want to hear it," she stopped him. "It's already enough that we're standing in the place we were going to have the wedding, don't you think?"

By the look of his face, it was obvious he didn't even notice. Marron shook her head, not finding him worthy of a goodbye. She flew as fast as she could.

* * *

There was a small bar downtown that played jazz and only served five different cocktails without a chaser. It was grand, but it was also dark. It was a favorite unknown spot where the only dress code was a smile. Literally.

"Seriously, I'm going to scream if I have to keep grinning like I have petroleum jelly in my teeth," Marron grunted, settling into the booth beside him. Trunks was already three drinks ahead of her, so when the waiter came, she ordered four martinis.

"It went that bad?" he asked her.

"It went worse, but I don't care to elaborate," she answered, thanking the waiter for her drinks. Trunks didn't even raise his glass for Marron to toast it. "Here's to the Heartbreak Club: _Yes, your ex was a piece of shit!_ "

"Amen to that sister!" called a voice from the bar. They both ignored it.

"You know what, Trunks?" the blonde declared, downing her second and third drink with flinching at all. "We don't need them. You and me? We could get hitched and be a power couple until, you know, I divorce you and take half your assets. Hell, what's love anyway?"

"A lot," he responded, chuckling almost, and earning a dull look.

Within the next hour, he was on his fifth and Marron was hiccupping through her fourth. The music got louder, or everyone was drunker. He didn't know what it was, but the voice from the bar had got up and began swaying with another stranger. Suddenly, half the bar was dancing on a Sunday night.

Call it liquid courage, but he stood up to join the crowd. There was just something soft in the whistle tones and trumpets, and well, the fact that the whole place was just in a good mood. He couldn't help but be in it too. Marron was holding her breath and failing. He held out a hand to her.

"You can be seri—you're drunk," she giggled into her hand.

"C'mon, you've been sad all summer. You fucking deserve to dance," he encouraged, feeling the warmth from the whiskey. Trunks knew he could've easily burned it off in his blood, and be sober to think straight. However, he also thought he deserved to fucking dance. He was pretty great at it.

"You're crazy!" she said, losing her hiccups.

"Marron, we only have a couple of hours to make this summer not suck, alright? If you don't take my hand right now, it's going to suck forever. Do you want that?!" he insisted.

She finally sighed after a minute, taking his hand. " _Fine_."

They swayed and turned and tossed until they were in the center of the room, giggling like school kids, which was ironic because they didn't have this chance in grade school. Trunks was always too busy to ask a girl out to the dances; and Marron was always too busy teaching Goten's clumsy feet. For a moment, it was actually nice.

Then, the bar began to die out. Cabs were being called by the bartender, people began to pass out on the tables, and the dim lights that made the room so mysterious was suddenly bright for all to see. The music went on, but it was different now.

Their foreheads touched, and he couldn't remember when they had gotten so close. He felt her vodka breath, and he knew they weren't in their right minds enough anymore. She laughed, but it wasn't sweet and soft. It was uneven, and tasted like salt.

"I still love him," Marron admitted, falling into his chest. His shirt started to feel wet, but he didn't want to move just yet.

He kissed her forehead, suddenly not sober but hungover. The night ended, and he understood where she was coming from.

The summer still sucked.

* * *

Out of good behavior and a grand effort on her part, Dende granted Pan release from her pain a day early. She made use of the last four days on her couch; eating, pitching ideas to her PR team, watching movies, reading up on her dad's latest work on energy conservation, making plans with Bulma to convert one of her extra bathrooms into her own Gravity Room, using her new public Facebook profile to livestream with fans for the details of the new Satan Gyms, calling her parents (annoying them, really), and even buying Bra several meals. (Truthfully, it wasn't _that_ much of an effort, but in the eyes of Earth's God, she was doing better than most.)

She sliced her bandages with a concentrated energy beam, one that won't burn her skin but would make a precise line on her leg cast. Her physical strength and speed needed some more time to catch up to how she was, but the new trick impressed everyone on the Lookout. As soon as she took off her arm sling, she did a back-flip.

Pan didn't stay with Dende and Piccolo for long. Seeing that August had arrived with good rest, she practically jumped off the small platform in the sky to free fall.

The first place she had visited was her family. She ran into her doctor who was not even a bit surprised that she bounced back so quickly. Pan thanked her and rushed off to the second floor. As soon as she saw the sick old man on his deathbed, she jumped on him enthusiastically, waking up her tired mother who had spent the night.

"Yo, Gramps!" she hugged him, careful of not putting all her pressure on him. Pan levitated off the bed with a grin.

Mr. Satan, after mumbling and a cough, grew wide eyes as soon as he saw her face, sitting up straight as if he was a new man. He practically shouted, "Pan! I, uh, thought you were staying with Buu still!"

"I was!" she informed him. "He's taking good care of the place. Everything is how you said it would be, but I got rid some of your—" she leaned in so her mother couldn't hear, " _unmentionables_."

Even in his lifeless grey cheeks, there was a warmth of a rose tint. Videl coughed, earning haphazard answers from her father and daughter. Pan remained optimistic.

"Commuting there is going to be great. We're opening gyms in Ginger Town, North City, Central City, and one on Papaya Island. We're keeping the Satan City one open in honor of you, of course." She went on and on about her upcoming projects, and how actually scattering the gyms would help her be faster. (Some people ran in the morning; she would simply fly.) She concluded with, "Earth's not so big, honestly!"

Pan didn't allow either of her mother or grandfather to respond to her massive plan. She was set out to change the world, and no one could stop her.

Afterwards, as promised, Pan went to buy Bra's lunch, but to the younger's surprise, it was _her_ time to spontaneously hide somewhere painfully obvious. Bra tried _not_ to have a heart attack when she found Pan sitting on top of her new machine with a salad.

" _God_! You couldn't use the front door?!" the Brief heiress caught her breath, thankful that she didn't fall. Pan jumped down and looked at her previous seat.

"This is the artificial gravity machine for my bathroom?" she asked, handing over Bra's lunch. "I thought Bulma was designing it."

" _Pffft_ ," spat the older scientist from across the room. "She thinks she can improve it!"

"I can and I am!" Bra snarked back. "Grandfather made the first GR for Goku, and you fixed it for Papa. Obviously, it's only appropriate that I make it better for Pan since she's surpassed the level you built for him."

" _WHAT_?!" shouted a familiar and indiscernible voice of a grumpy Saiyan Prince, who was not at all satisfied with his training partners returning to their normal Earthling careers. Vegeta sat up on the green couch she didn't even notice.

"Are you wearing _leather_ pants, old man?!" Pan laughed, snorting a bit at the end. "And they're red!"

"You cannot surpass me! I'm your superior, girl!" Vegeta shouted again. He was scolding her truthfully, but even if she hadn't seen him for a while, Pan was so used to his tone that she didn't even flinch when he raised his voice.

"To be fair," the youngest Son landed on the floor beside him. She pressed the side of a flat hand to the top of her head and hovered it above Vegeta. "I am taller _and_ leaner than you so I'm not as heavy in the GR. Bra has the right idea of elevating the levels."

Bulma paused to stare at the two fighters. She let out a giggle, "She used to be below your kneecaps. honey!"

"Freak of nature like that damn Raditz," he cursed under his breath. Pan sighed, still not knowing who the hell that was.

Against the protest of not fighting anybody, she left the Brief's compound and quickly went home to change in a more professional look. She had a meeting in under an hour, and she had to look her best.

* * *

Trunks adjusted his tie, staring out his office window before inhaling deeply, and following the advice of someone he loved. It was his last day of his first week back to work, and unfortunately, he hadn't thought to get tailored for new suits. Everything fit so tight that he only felt eyes ogling him all morning. He liked attention, but the business building was a work place.

Luckily, today was also a Friday, which meant he would soon have the weekend to himself. He only had one more thing to do, and it was a private meeting a new company called _SMAC_. He hadn't heard of it, but Ms. Olive, golden from her overdue vacation, had told him that he would like them. Apparently, the owner was charming (even charming enough to win her over). However, Trunks wasn't interested for any bastard who wanted to sweet talk him. It was business, and he expected it to be handled in such a manner.

He settled into his desk, feeling a bit impatient. Maybe out of boredom or maybe he was really a masochist, he found himself looking out of the unopened window that hadn't seen a visitor in months. He had to admit it was a bit strange to not see her there floating, especially at this time of day. He wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling he would see her soon—not because she stayed in town—but because, well, he just had a feeling. Wasn't that enough to suffice?

"Mr. Briefs?" called out on his speaker. Trunks quickly pressed the talking button, coughing a bit after being surprised.

"Go for it," he directed.

"The owner of SMAC has arrived, would you like me to send them in?" Ms. Olive asked, still being vague about the client. She must've really liked them if she wanted him to be surprised.

"Go for good," Trunks answered, adjusting his posture. He took another deep breath and put on his best poker face.

Then, his feeling more than just an instinct. It was a prediction. There she was, right in front of him.

Her raven hair was nearly straightened with a slight curl at the end, shining in an almost commercial-like sheen. She wore makeup, but not doused in a flushing blush or anything glittery, but instead her features were accentuated and skin looked flawless.

She wore a form-fitting dress with a stylish print, and even added pantyhose underneath. Her heeled boots and matching handbag were designer, and the dangling diamond earrings spoke a language on their own. If that wasn't enough, she held herself up so tall and proud, he was in awe.

She looked so... _adult._

"Mr. Brief, this is Pan Son from SMAC. She has a proposition for you," Ms. Olive introduced before leaving them to get acquainted.

"Hello, Mr. Brief. Nice to meet you."

* * *

 _End_.


	14. Part II - Chapter 14

_Between Friends_ —

Rated: M (for obvious reasons)

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything related to the DragonBall franchise.

Summary: Another adulthood-esque fic. Identity crises & long talks.

Pairings: Trunks/Pan. Goten/Marron. Bra/Uub.

Note: Hi, this is my first DBZ-related fic and I doubt I'll ever figure out the plot completely. Writing as we go! ( **08/2016 Updates** : new formatting and rewrites on previous chapters. _All_ previously replied reviews  & author notes have been posted on my Tumblr page. I just wanted to focus on the writing, please.)

 **Additional Note** : If you noticed, this chapter has "Part II" in its chapter name whereas the previous chapters were titled with "Part I." The reason for that is because as I've been rereading this fic, I've been visualizing everything going on, and though it makes me happy that I've explored myself as a writer, the first saga of this story was pretty much over by the time they broke up and Pan made up with Bra. The last chapter was definitely a filler, but also a transition from where they were to the things that I wanted to write about in the second half.

Part II is definitely not the final installment, but it's a different from Part I because there are things in the characters I wanted to introduce and resolve before the third part. In a way, it's like a new "season" of this fic, which relieves me because as a continuous story, this won't have one conflict and be over when it's resolved. There will always be something new to write, which is a bit liberating.

I just want to thank you all who've been following this story from the beginning. Really, your kindness and patience has been incredible and I'm so happy to give you more content. I'm really in love with what's coming next, and I hope you like it too! Happy holidays!

* * *

 ** _CHAPTER 14_** **  
**Early September | 118 Days Before

August went by as quickly as the leaves changed. As she stared out the window at the bare tree branches, taking a deep breath as her corset was tightened even more, it was more than apparent that summer was long gone and it was the officially the beginning of fall.

Bra, for the briefest of brief moments, felt an excitement in her chest. It was her favorite time of the year, and she was ready for all the pumpkin-somethings to arrive at her favorite places. Nothing was going to break her spirits—of course, that was until her brother opened his mouth. Again.

"Why do we need to be fitted in September? It's called the _Christmas Ball_ ," Trunks complained for the fifteenth time that day. Like every year, her big brother was less enthralled of the idea of a holiday party (or any kind of event party, really). He always made it known from the first leaf change until the end of New Year's Day. However, unlike the last few years, no one wanted the job of dragging him out of his prissy mood.

Their father replied with a scowl, lifting his arms so the assistants could get his new measurements. "The more you talk, boy, the longer it will take," Vegeta reminded his son. Bra and her mother laughed amongst themselves as Trunks started mumbling to himself about something.

Truth was, Vegeta was actually _less_ irritated by his students returning to their careers, and more offended by the fact that Pan had chose to train with Goku instead of him after deciding to stay in town. It was actually a sad moment, considering that he helped Bra set up the new gravity machine in Pan's place and went on about how it would be nice to ruin her house for a change. The two girls tried to let him down gently that she no longer wanted to be his pupil.

That being said, it was also the day Pan and Trunks no longer acknowledged each other's existence. After what they had all thought would be the meeting the two made up, Trunks was left with a broken window, Pan focused on building hype for her upcoming regional tournaments, and neither of them told anybody of the conversation they had. In fact, not even Ms. Olive knew the details of their meeting.

They all guessed that it would've all blown over by now, especially when Bulma attempted to reach Pan, as she did every year, to deal with her brother's annual holiday bitchfest. When the designers came and she didn't, it was truly final that their relationship and friendship was done for good. Bra only wondered how long they would keep up their act, however. Pride was such an inconvenient thing.

"Would you like a long or short skirt this year, Miss. Brief?" asked one of the designer's assistants.

Bulma added, "Pick something you can dance in. I'm thinking about coordinating a dance this year."

Bra quickly snapped her head to her mother. "A dance, really? You do realize no one in our family can even follow a beat."

"Don't be that way," Bulma quickly dismissed, handing the one of assistants the fabric she wanted for her dress. "It's not like we're choreographing it ourselves. I've hired somebody."

That caught Trunks's attention. He began to frown almost immediately. "Don't tell me you've hired the devil himself," he said with a shiver by a mere thought.

Bra raised a brow before it clicked into her head of who he was talking about. She turned back to her mother. "No, it's not—"

"The party has arrived!"

They all turned to the door, relieved that they saw their Aunt Tights, and not their rude and arrogant—

"Oh, Boxer hurry up with those bags!" Tights called out, and then walked in the blond monstrosity that was their cousin. He was in _drop-crotch_ pants.

"Wow, you've gotten so tall!" Bulma cooed as she hugged the twenty-three year old dancer. He returned the gesture with a soft smile as Aunt Tights rushed to greet her niece and nephew too. She then, being one of the very few people Vegeta allowed to touch him, practically jumped on her brother-in-law.

Tights and Boxer lived on an island outside of East City with Boxer's other adoptive mother and their aunt's wife, Ann Azuki, who was a popstar turned bartender. Tights and Ann met briefly as teenagers before meeting again when Ann decided to retire from her glamorous lifestyle. The times when their relatives visited, however, Ann rarely came along. Not out of shame or anything, but because the two sisters were extremely different.

Though they were both highly intelligent and quiet charming, Bulma and Tights were not the same person by any means. Bulma liked the comfort of her lab and big house while Tights could live out of the back of a van if she wanted. Bulma liked tight clothes and being proud of her accomplishments; Tights didn't like to brag about graduating university so young and could often be found in some sort of denim. One sister was a well-respected scientist, and one was a successful sci-fi writer. Ann simply didn't like visiting because she didn't like the city. It wasn't that big of a deal.

The one person who _did_ like the city though was Boxer, their cousin. Though he did very much love to dance, Ann disapproved of him trying to reach any kind of stardom. He was only allowed to come to West City to finish high school after his school _miraculously_ burned down before his junior year. Bra and Trunks initially felt sympathetic to him, but after finding out what a big asshat he was, the Brief heirs tried their best to not acknowledge his existence entirely.

After Boxer added more one squeeze in his hug to his aunt, he walked over to his cousins and that grin he had before quickly disappeared into a troubling smirk.

"I see that you've gotten old," he greeted Trunks before turning to Bra. "That corset's a little loose, don't you—wait, _wow_ , you've gotten bulky!"

"You're so _catty_. It's hard to believe that you're such a bit—" Trunks quickly pulled his sister away. Though they did try to ignore Boxer for the most part, he always found a way to crawl under their skin.

"Isn't this nice? The gang's back together and all," Tights held onto her son's neck as Bra and Trunks forced a sweet smile. In front of their parents, they didn't argue since their moms rarely had a chance to see each other. "Trunks, your mom told me you were dating. Don't hide her from me!"

"Well, uh, about that—"

"And Bra, where's that cute friend of yours? Box was excited to hear that she was going to join in on the dance choreo. She was a good friend of yours in high school, wasn't she?" Tights turned to her son, who was a bit flushed at his mother's directness. To his discouragement, Bra caught his unease at the mention of Pan. She remembered the rejection _very_ well.

Bulma soon butted in. "Oh, I forgot to update you, Tights!" she quickly pulled her sister away, informing her that Trunks was now single quietly. To everyone's discomfort, Boxer also noticed Trunks's unease at the mention of Pan and a breakup. Well, that was certainly going to complicate things.

He turned to his older, narrowing her eyes and such. "You did something stupid, didn't you?" he accused before dropping it completely. Boxer sighed, shrugging and turning away. "I guess it's karma. She always had the dumb crush on you."

Trunks rolled his eyes, feeling an insult wanting to leave his tongue. It was then Bra's turn to stop him from acting like a fool. The younger Brief shook her head, adding a _tsk_.

"Let him be. He's still upset over _Prom_ ," Bra said it loudly enough for Boxer to hear as he walked away. She laughed to further the insult. Trunks raised a brow.

"What happened at Prom?" he asked his sister.

When the devil was out of the room, her mood quickly changed. "You can ask your ex-girlfriend about it," she practically huffed, walking back to the assistant designers to finish her fitting. He then remembered how much he hated today, and how much he was going to hate the upcoming months.

"It wouldn't kill you to talk to her, boy," Vegeta chimed in, adding his two cents to the finished conversation. Trunks stared at him dully.

" _You're_ the one who wanted this. Live with it," the younger hissed, earning a warning glare. The two men then had a staring contest before remember that neither of them were allowed to argue today, not by their own choice either.

Then, in about three to five seconds, Boxer came rushing back into the room in a pace they hardly ever seen him in. He dove for the remote on the coffee table and flipped on the television, hurriedly changing the channel until it stopped on some random fantasy sci-fi show.

Bra looked up to see what he was so excited about. On the screen, the alien show was cutting to a black and white commercial. It looked like it was advertising some high-end perfume or that new sex-crazed movie everyone was talking about. In a husky voice, the narrator of the commercial began with, " _Introducing the next generation..._ "

Boxer practically groaned in delight, "That's _hot_ _._ "

"Don't watch that kind of stuff out here with everyone else," Trunks then retorted as the screen began flashing sequences of close-ups of skin shots. The camera then began panning down slowly, teasing the figure of the model. Boxer shushed his older cousin.

"Just watch it. You're going to love it as much as I do," the younger said with his eyes still glued to the screen. He was literally drooling and Bra never felt more disgusted in her life. Boxer then added, "She _still_ gets me going."

"Somebody make him turn it off," Bra ordered, prompting Trunks to try to steal the remote. Boxer, however, was too determined to see the commercial until its end.

The model then started to punch and kick the air, which was all filmed in slow motion. Though everything else was colorless, a gold belt shined on the screen as the pace began to speed up again. Bra squinted, recognizing the familiar design but not yet registering yet.

The next scene was then a full body shot from the back. In strategically placed lighting, shadows hid the parts that needed to be covered for most network televisions. Nonetheless, the model was nude and she didn't understand what in the world they were trying to advertise.

Boxer let out a whistle as the close-ups returned. Now the camera was running down her back and torso. "People used to say she was manly because she was good at sports, but I always knew she had a bangin' body. Just look!"

And they did—more specifically, they _remembered._

"What the hell," Bra heard her brother mutter. When she turned back to the screen, her eyes went wide. The model was turning her head.

" _This is not a trick_ ," Pan said in a voice she never heard before. It was almost like a whisper, like one she rather would _not_ like to hear her best friend talk in. Her soft smile was then replaced with a scowl. She quickly punched the camera and the screen (or camera glass?) cracked. The commercial ended with a fade out to black, announcing something was coming soon. In a blink, it was over.

"I told you that you were going to love it as much as I do," Boxer nudged Trunks. In a turn of events, their father was the one who slapped him for the remote.

* * *

" _Kame_ —"

"Wait! No energy bla—"

"— _HAAAA_!"

The machine went up in smoke, and they all came crashing down. Goten landed on his back. Uub landed on top of him. Pan was barely hovering an _inch_ above ground to avoid impact. Goku, on the other hand, was offering an apologetic look. At least, the newly broken window was providing the proper ventilation.

"Bra's going to _kill_ me," Pan muttered, flying over to the broken artificial gravity machine. The rule had been no energy blasts because her dad and Bulma were testing out their new _ki_ battery, the energy conservation device they spent the whole summer creating to reduce electricity usage.

Being that her gyms were going to have these installed, it was only proper that Pan tested it first. She had spent all night charging it with the _exact_ amount of energy (which was exhausting in itself). How it worked was simple; the battery was almost magnetic when it came to _ki_. Flying and fighting only give off bits of energy that recharged the battery in the meantime, but an energy blast itself, regardless how big or small, had the power to overpower it. She guessed it was kind of her fault for not mentioning it before they started.

Her Grandpa Goku joined her, staring at the now burnt piece of metal. He tilted his head curiously like a child discovering something for the first time. Yeah, it was definitely hard to be upset. "Oh, is that why we feel more tired than usual? I thought I felt something draining me a bit."

"So not only were we in this gravity thing, we were getting the life sucked out of us?!" Goten complained, rolling Uub off of him. He crashed down, exhausted and defeated. He had only chose to train with his father because he didn't like how Vegeta liked using the gravity machine. Suddenly, the two boys perked their heads up.

Uub raised a brow. "That was, uh, _weird_ ," he commented. A warmth came from their core, and suddenly they felt lighter than usual. Goku was even flying around at the new burst of energy. They all looked towards Pan.

"It happened to me last night too," she said, disconnecting the battery and turning it off. "I think it has to do with the sink or swim instinct we all have. This might be dangerous to introduce to people who are weaker."

Goten piqued, "Why do you say that?"

"Well, you see, the machine doesn't take out just the excess amounts of energy we give off, but a certain amounts of it so it doesn't blow up itself," she held up the dead battery. "Look at this, and remember how big Grandpa's blast was. It took _all_ of that along with what we were giving out and it just overheated. It should've exploded with that amount, don't you think?"

"Oh, I get it. Since we train more than most, our bodies could take losing more _ki_ than everyone else. Introducing it to weaker people would almost kill them," Goten theorized. He then looked towards Uub. "You must be really strong. I mean, most of our strength comes from our Saiyan blood. Right, Pan?" She didn't answer. "Pan?"

Uub noticed the annoyed look in her face. He guessed after Gohan had suggested she take a day in the Time Chamber, meaning taking a year by herself to "catch up" with the other hybrids, she wasn't fond of crediting her success to that part of her bloodline. She trained more than and more savagely than everyone else, so it was probably a big slap in the face to know she was limited.

The island boy then added, trying his best to comfort his friend without seeming like it. "Well, she's in a better condition than you, so most of her strength probably comes from the Earthling part of her," he teased his older.

Goten sighed, finally catching on what his younger was trying to do. "Well then, Kami, I need to catch up," he said, dropping the subject completely.

"Anyway, Pan, you said something about a sink or swim instinct?" Goku asked, landing down.

"Oh, yeah," she smiled at her grandpa. "Well, I'm not certain because it wasn't part of the study, but I think because the battery does takes energy from us, our bodies aren't used to the rate of losing that much _ki_. Since we're not used to it, that instinct we have to save ourselves kicks in and produces more energy to make up for the loss. When the machine is off, however, we're still producing that amount, which is why we all feel so warm until we go back to our regular energy rates. A certain amount of excess ki actually also accels our blood cells so we recover more quickly than we usually do."

The old man thought about it for a while and then concluded with a small laugh, "You should tell your daddy all that when you see him. I told Chichi that you didn't need school. You're already a genius!"

She smiled softly. "Thanks, Grandpa."

Goku then looked out of broken window he created, offering another apologetic look. "Well, I guess the boys and I could go buy some wood to cover that up. When we meet up next week, we'll just go bug Piccolo."

"I actually have to head back to the clinic," Goten spoke up, having the same innocent look as his father. "I was patching up a few dinosaur babies so I should return them back to their homes. They should be waking up in a bit."

"I'll help," Uub offered. It was only fair since his siblings pretty much took over the farms this year thanks to his teacher. He wasn't used to being so idle for so long.

"Thanks," Goku accepted and the two quickly flew off before the hardware store closed.

"I'll be back with takeout. We should really get that oven fixed," Goten reminded before leaving. He followed after the white streaks the other two left behind, and once again, Pan found herself alone in her grossly large home. She decided to leave the battery in the training room and call Bra to tell her what happened.

She flew to her living room, not really at a fast pace or a normal one either. She slumped over to her couch and reached for the play button on her answering machine. Though it was pretty much outdated for the times, she didn't really care to buy a new cell phone either.

" _You have four new messages_ ," said the automated voice.

"Then play them," Pan said, even though she knew it couldn't talk to her back. After announcing the name and number, the machine played the recordings.

" _Doll_ , _the commercial was a success! You're the new hottest thing in today's market! Listen, I know you want to only focus on the tournament but there's a design_ —"

Pan reached over to press the delete button. She wasn't interested in any new projects her manager kept trying to force on her. It was already embarrassing enough having to tell her parents to not watch her debut commercial. She played the next message.

" _You're probably training right now. Uh, honey, I know you said to not watch but the TV was on anyway and_ — _well, that was an interesting approach to a martial artist, don't you think? As long as it was your choice, then I guess_ —"

She quickly pressed the delete button. She already knew what her father was going to try to rationalize, and she didn't need that kind of guilt. She just hoped the tournament would be enough to remind everyone that though she was an adult now, she was also a fighter, and a great one at that.

" _Pan? Hi, sweetie. It's Bulma. Your mom gave me your new number, and I was just wondering if you could come over today for the fitting. You're here every year and it just won't be the same without you. Boxer and Tights are also coming into town so Tru_ — _I mean, Bra is probably going to need your support. We miss you. I think Vegeta needs to fight you_. _He's grumpier than usual_. _Bye, sweetie_."

She didn't bother to skip that message because she already knew what today was. This was the time of year her schedule was dedicated to the Briefs, but she wouldn't give in—especially not after what that _bastard_ said to her. He was such an idiot, or maybe she was... No, he was the idiot. For sure. Trunks Brief was an doofus.

The last message played:

" _Hey, it's Jasmine! The director? Oh, you'll know when we see each other again. I just call and ask if you wanted to grab lunch soon. Turns out, I'm going to stay in town for a while for another project. Since I don't really know anybody in this city, I thought we could be friends. Hopefully that's not too straightforward. Call back and let me know!_ "

The call ended and the machine wanted to know if she wanted to save or delete the message. Pan felt undecided. She then remembered she had to call Bra.

The dial tone rang approximately one time before someone on the other line picked up. Her stomach churned at the sound of his voice.

"Hey, pretty girl. It's been a minute—"

"Give me my damn phone!"

The older girl felt a sense of relief to hear her voice.

"What did that asshat say to you?" Bra snapped while Boxer complained in the background. She heard another doofus in the background, but chose to ignore it. Pan sighed.

"Doesn't matter. I'm talking to you now," she said.

The two girls quickly caught each other up in the first five minutes. Bra told her how the design of this year's ball dress, and how Tights was in town to finish up a new book. The younger also told Pan of what she watched on television.

"I always thought you had a nice body!" snickered the Brief heiress. "Though I think you've created an unfair advantage for yourself in the tournament."

"Well, I did start training when I was two—"

"No, not that. Of course, you're strong, but don't you think the other fighters are going to be distracted?" she was hinting at something that she wasn't catching. Bra sighed, "When they're fighting you, all they'll think about is that commercial and the way your body move—"

" _Bra_ ," Pan interrupted her from going any further.

The younger laughed some more. "Fine, fine. Why did you call anyway?"

"About that," Pan took a deep breath before explaining. "You see, the machine kind of broke today."

"Machine? Wha— _Pan_ , _no_."

"Pan, yes?" she tried to laugh to lighten the mood, but Bra wasn't having it one bet. Her inherited temper was coming up, and she could feel it through the phone even.

Instead of yelling, however, there was a rumble followed by an argument, which then was led to an old man taking her best friend's phone away from her.

" _Papa_!"

"Girl, if the artificial gravity machine at your place is broken, then I suggest you train here until my child has it fixed," Vegeta said without missing a single beat. Just then, another argument broke out and now she was on the phone with Bra's other parent.

"Pan, sweetie! Is the battery working still? How's your progress coming along? Has it affect you in any way—Vegeta, she heard you the first time!" Bulma asked before telling her husband to relax. She guessed she should've expected this; Bulma and Vegeta practically raised her as much as her own family did, but _still_.

"Um, guys, actually, I'm going to go buy a new oven. Bye-bye!" Pan quickly hung up the phone, quickly regretting the use of _bye-bye_ , but nonetheless, not picking up when they called back. Luckily, they didn't leave a message. Maybe she should go buy a new oven so it wasn't a lie.

Yeah, she was going to go buy a new oven.

Pan didn't bother changing from her training gear. She just grabbed her wallet and headed out the broken window. Her building's security was already tight, but no human had the guts to climb up twenty-five stories to get in anyway. If it wasn't human, then she had nothing of interest to take anyway. With that logic, Pan flew her around the city until she found one of those big warehouse stores that sold, well, _everything_.

She walked in, grabbing a thin cart and hoping to blend in with the sea of people. Of course, she wasn't photographed as much as her Gramps, but after her summer disappearance and her publicity team moving from Satan City, let's just say that she couldn't catch a damn break.

Pan didn't mind the idea of being a celebrity (if she could make that sound less pretentious as it did). She had been around the flashing cameras and screaming crowds enough to not fear it, and it wasn't like she couldn't protect herself if things got out of hand or if she needed to escape.

Plus, as much as she hated to admit it, Trunks had taught her a few things too. When they used to walk around the city or even walked around a highly-photographed event like the Christmas Ball, that ridiculous ex of hers had taught her the tricks to be slick. Of course, it helped a lot that they were gifted with these superhuman abilities already, but a few of the tips were really useful when she was underage and stole whiskey from the open bars. He was so proud of her for the most juvenile things.

Pan stopped the cart, sighing as she stood in front of a random aisle. She began to miss the fun they used to have, but only briefly. She then remembered the last conversation they had and what an idiot he was. She didn't even know why she was thinking of him in the first place, or even what she was thinking before she thought of him. Stupid.

" _This is not a trick_."

She turned her head so fast that she almost snapped her neck. To her right, a small group of teenage boys stood like brain-dead zombies, staring and even drooling. To her left, there stood a stack of TV's, all replaying the black and white commercial she was hoping wouldn't be played with small children present.

"Y-your— _oh my god_ ," said one of the young zombies. The one that was drooling heavily wasn't looking at her face, and Pan immediately remembered that she forgot to bring her hoodie. She wasn't sure what to say or do, so she only waved awkwardly, hoping a hello was enough for them to leave.

"So... freaking... cute," another had to literally force out. He looked like he was going to burst. Scratch that, they _all_ looked like they were going to explode and she didn't want to know of _what_.

"Well, it's nice meeting you all!" She waved again before walking quickly—fine, ran—away. She maneuvered around the other customers expertly and then she turned a sharp corner. All would've been fine if she saw the wet floor sign and remembered that she could fly.

The cart flipped over and flipped her along with it. When she forgot to grab onto the handle, she flipped some more and continued to flip until she landed in the mattress section. As luck would have it, she _did_ land on top of mattress and that mattress had an idiot on top of it. (Two idiots if she was counting herself.)

"Would you get off?!" Trunks snapped.

She rolled her eyes. It wasn't like he was making an effort to make her leave anyway. She jumped over to the empty side beside him, sitting cross-legged as he still laid down. Pan stared at him dully. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Not that it's any of your business but I'm buying a new mattress," he said with even more attitude.

She sighed, "The stick up your butt always stiffened this time of year."

"Aren't you the one who told me to never speak to you ever again?" he reminded, propping himself on his elbows. He was scowling like his father and she didn't fail to return the same threatening glare back.

"You need a fucking haircut," she jeered, not breaking eye contact.

"Well you should put on some damn clothes," he mocked back. She had something to say about his dumb fake glasses, but then decided against it.

"You're not even worth it," she leaned in closer to tell him straight to his face.

"Stop wasting my time," he gritted his teeth.

" _Um_ —"

They had been so close that when they turned, they bumped into each other's faces. As they rubbed their soon-to-be bruises, the looked up to find Marron with an armful of candles and a bag full of fake leaves. They both pushed each other off the mattress and landed on the opposite sides of the floor.

"Oh, I thought you were two were going to kiss," the blonde laughed, waiting for them to get up.

Pan dusted herself off, ignoring the pain in her ass and the other pain if her rear. She looked towards her friend. "Don't mind him. Are you redecorating the loft for the season?" she asked. This time, she gave a smile to someone who actually deserved it.

"No, I'm decorating my classroom. I figured it was time to get my kids in the holiday mood," Marron trailed off, passing a look to Trunks. "Actually, I came here with him, but he's not really in the mood for anything pumpkin-related. Want to join us? Please say yes."

"She wouldn't dare," the Brief heir muttered. Pan rolled her eyes once more.

"Actually, I came to replace my oven," she informed Marron and only Marron because someone else didn't exist in her world right now and forever.

The blonde blinked. "Your _oven_? You're barely replacing it now?" she then laughed again and tossed another look to Trunks. "Dende, you two take forever on fixing broken things. So stubborn."

"Don't compare me to her," Trunks told her, crossing his arms. Pan found it ironic how he had called her a child when he wasn't even an adult himself. "She's the reason why I have to buy a new bed in the first place. I don't want to be here."

"Your legs seem to work. Why don't you just leave?" Pan suggested.

Marron, in her calm voice that was used to neutralize her more younger students, then added, "Well, my dad broke her oven, so it looks like what happened to you two is neither of your faults." It wasn't the complete truth, but she needed to stroke their egos to soften them a bit.

"She can only come if she's buying my bed," Trunks only offered, expecting it to be enough to make her leave.

"Is that all you want, you big baby?" Pan snorted.

Before another argument could ensue, Marron stepped in and agreed to the terms. She then took a moment to think. "Well, if that's happening then I guess I should pay for the oven—"

"You're kidding, right? You have a teacher's salary," Trunks harshly reminded. Quietly, he said, "I'll pay for it. It's just an oven. It's not like she cooks."

"I make a better sauce than your favorite bistro," Pan stuck out her tongue.

"Take that fucking back—"

"Alright! Let's get started, shall we?" Marron cut in. She honestly didn't know if this was going to be a good idea or a bad one, but what she did know was that it was happening. It was best for them, but more importantly, best for _her_.

Not in any sort of way did she need, or even want, to be a part of Bulma's insane holiday planning. That had always been Pan's job. No one else's.

* * *

Bra could feel the vein on her forehead throbbing. She was carrying her toolkit, hoping that Pan's broken machine would be the excuse she needed to leave her house alone, but no, not even close. She was in the elevator with four other people who didn't need to be there.

Boxer whistled loudly. "The top floor? I would've never pegged her as a rich girl," he commented. She wanted to tell him that of course he wouldn't have known; Pan didn't even want him breathing her _air_. However, she kept it to herself. Her brother was smart to leave early; she hoped he never came back.

"Chichi told me that Goten and Uub have practically moved in, so you could make some friends, Box!" Bulma chimed in with a sweet smile. She then began to worry. "Oh, I hope the battery's alright. Gohan and I spent so long making it."

"Well, I hope the girl's ready because I plan on kicking her ass," Vegeta huffed, earning a nudge from his wife to watch his language. At another time though, she would've told him the same thing while adding her own naughty words.

"I just want to see her place. If her personality is the same as I remembered it, her place should be fun to see," Tights said, remaining optimistic. A small smile formed on Bra's lips; her aunt reminded her so much of her best friend that it was no wonder she always felt like they were sisters instead.

The elevator stopped on the top floor, and being one of many who had a spare key, Bra opened the front door to let her family in. Her father immediately stepped in before everyone else, calling out to his former student. Bulma watched her sister's reaction to Pan's quirky decorations. Boxer let out another whistle, and her eyes caught a vase with the hospital flowers Marron had got her. Surprisingly, they were still alive.

"Girl! Come out!" Vegeta hollered again. Who appeared wasn't the girl though; it was her grandfather with his happy grin.

"Vegeta!" Goku yelled back.

"Kakarot, I didn't call for you! Go away!" the old man snapped back. A shirtless Uub then came out with his own toolbelt around his waist. Strangely, she felt excited to see his face. It had been a while since they had reunited.

"Please tell me you're not fixing the machine," Bra said firstly. The island boy shook his head.

"We broke a window so we were trying to board it up," he explained. The group then moved to the training room, which was formerly Pan's first floor's master bathroom. Bra wondered where she put the priceless porcelain tub, but she wouldn't ask. Uub then pointed to the poor wooden cover for the broken window. Since they couldn't nail glass, the two basically made a curtain.

"Oh, Vegeta! Since Pan's training with me, I should let you know that she's gotten better! She was a little off from the summer and work, but her stamina is incredible. She could really last in a fight," Goku told his rival, who was still hurt by the first half of that explanation. Nonetheless, he wouldn't show that his pride had been wounded.

"I know. I broke her ribs for a month straight," Vegeta dismissed.

"He's kidding, right?" Boxer looked towards his aunt, who didn't quite have an answer for him.

Bulma, looking for the battery, pondered around for the battery case. Seeing that the machine was open, she figured Pan had taken it out and turned it off. She wondered what the effects were since she was always tired when she worked on it with Gohan. "Goku, did Pan tell you where she put the battery?"

"I left before she did. She didn't even tell us that she was going anywhere," her mother's oldest friend explained.

"Wait, Bulma, are you aware of the battery's draining effect? If you are, isn't it reckless for Pan to have it? You should be testing it in a controlled environment and not here," Uub then spoke up, catching everyone's attention. He wasn't usually so outspoken, and nonetheless, _this_ serious. "If it wasn't for Goku's energy blast overpowering it, we all would've been wiped out after our session."

Her mother stiffened her posture. "How so?"

"Because your battery doesn't have a set limit. If we would've finished our training under the artificial gravity as well as have the battery's effect, we would've all been too exhausted to shut it off. If we didn't shut it off, that thing would have literally sucked the life out of us," Uub continued, staring down at the old woman. "Giving it to Pan to test without more studying was careless and not to mention, dangerous. I can't even imagine what she must've felt like after charging it last night and the previous times she used it. At least Goku was here today to soften the power on all of us."

Bulma fell silent, realizing the implications and hating the fact that he was right. However, she was also a scientist and scientists weren't subjective to even their most personal projects. She took his criticisms with great stride, and decided that the battery was still a work in progress. She just needed to find it first.

Wanting to break the awkwardness, Bra walked over to her hard work. It definitely couldn't be fixed on the spot, and she would need to take it home with her. At least, she guess, this was only the _first_ time it broke, which was a record in itself to the other gravity machines. Pan had made an effort to not break it.

"I guess it can't be helped," the heiress said, pushing a secret button behind the gravity reader screen. The device that had been planted in the middle of the grand room like a tree had disappeared into a cloud of smoke until a small capsule flew in the air. Bra caught it, pushing it into her pocket. "Should we all go out to eat? I doubt any of has had any dinner."

Boxer, being the creep as he always was, smugly smirked. "Let's get takeout and wait for Pan to get home. How long does it take to buy an oven?"

"The same amount they can hold you in jail for stalking and trespassing," she retorted.

"Nah, they usually just make you pay bail and some more fees," her cousin shrugged.

Bra narrowed her eyes, grimacing too. "Every time you speak, my faith in humanity diminishes little by little."

He pointed _finger guns_ at her, smiling some more. "The feeling's mutual, cuzzo."

"Pan? I got taco—you guys aren't Pan," Goten arrived with a greasy brown shopping bag. He was also in a lab coat that was thrown over his gi. Without Marron, his hair was so long and terrifyingly identical to his father's once again. Boxer flinched, looking between Goku and his son.

"How were you born, dude? Mitosis?" the dancer blurted, taken aback. He looked towards Bra. "Good thing you don't care about your looks as much as Aunt B. That would be terrifying."

"Shut up, you're adopted," she snarked.

"I'm still handsome," Boxer said almost matter-of-factly. Bra snorted.

Goten intervened, coughing and stepping between them. "I don't think we've met. I'm Goten."

"Boxer," he offered a handshake. Bra stepped away, snatching the bag of tacos while she was at it.

"You two can get more takeout," she said before leading everyone out of the training room. Bulma did one last check for the battery before joining everyone else.

* * *

Pan closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and concentrating to drown out her surroundings. If she was going to pay for it, she was going to make sure it was worth the damn money.

"Is this really necessary? _I'm_ going to be sleeping on this," Trunks reminded, crossing his arms. "Not you."

"Will you be quiet? You're ruining my vibe," she hissed, making herself more comfortable. Trunks rolled his eyes. Marron went to go look for a sales associate fifteen minutes ago and they both were starting to think she did it on purpose. This was the fifth bed they were trying, and she had yet approved a single thing. Pan opened an eye. "What do you think you're doing?"

Trunks said nothing. He just lied down beside her with his arms to himself, eyes closed, and letting out an annoyed sigh. After about two minutes, he declared, "This one's fine."

"It's too hard," she complained. Again.

He rolled off, scowling. It seemed that his face was beginning to permanently stay like that. "Why does it matter to you anyway? It's not like you're going to use it."

"Maybe I'm being considerate. The girls you bring home deserve a good night's rest after a miserable night with you," she replied without missing a beat.

Trunks scoffed, "Don't make me out to be lecherous. You know damn well I don't bring just anybody home."

Pan sighed, standing up, and then plopping herself on the next bed. " _Mmmm_ ," she hummed happily. He watched as she sunk her head deeper. Trunks felt a small curve on his lips, remembering something he couldn't quite place. When she opened her eyes, however, he went back frowning.

"Are you satisfied yet?" he asked her.

"I might get this one for myself," she said, sitting up.

"Good. Then it's decided," he said, trying to rush her. Marron finally came back with a sales associate. He immediately said, "We'll take this one."

"Ah, you two married? My wife picked out the same one," said the guy, earning a warning glare from the two.

Marron stepped in, awkwardly laughing to break the tension. "Can you put the size he wants on hold? We'll set up the rest of the information when we're done shopping."

"Sure thing," he said, looking for any excuse to leave. Trunks told him what he wanted, along with the bed frame he wanted. When he said he was going to buy a new bedding set too, Pan only stared at him dumbfoundedly but she would pay for it all anyway. Marron decided in that moment that shopping with rich people was an interesting experience.

They made it out the bedroom aisle after Pan decided what kind of bedding he was going to have. Though he acted annoyed, Trunks didn't argue with any of it. Marron only laughed to herself, fondly remembering the trouble she and Goten had when they were first shopping for furniture and house things. When the two asked her what was funny, she only said nothing.

The made it to the kitchen appliances and they were all amazed of inventions created for the tiniest things. Trunks was captivated by the coffeemakers as the girls were counting the variety of knives and its specific uses on the opposite side of the same aisle.

While Trunks seemed distracted by an espresso machine, Marron nudged Pan, feeling it was appropriate to ask a question that had been bugging her all day.

"Hey, Pan, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," she replied, picking up a rather big butcher knife.

"Do you know why Trunks hates the holidays? I mean, technically, it's barely September," the blonde wondered.

Pan snorted, "Isn't it obvious? It's because he's a big baby!"

"You know what? I'm going to pick out the oven you're going to get," the Brief heir scoffed, scurrying away. Pan then laughed as it was her intention all along.

When he was out of sight, Marron nudged her younger. "So, spill it. Why does he hate this time of year?"

Pan's voice suddenly turned cold. "You've spent the most time with him lately and you still don't know?" Before Marron had a chance to react, the fighter went back to her sweet tone and putting down the sharp blade. "I mean, he's not that hard to figure out. He's just superstitious."

"Superstitious?" she repeated, raising a brow. Pan just shrugged as if it was obvious.

"Yeah, he's weird like that," she explained. "I guess ever since he took over the company, he thinks cursed or something. He's not really that grumpy as he seems, but he pretends to be so the universe would leave him alone. Every year, something bad happens from the time Bulma starts her party planning to his birthday in January—which, if you ask me, is too big of a time frame to be paranoid."

"Well, what kind of things have happened to make him feel that way?" she wondered.

Pan shrugged again, "Death."

The two walked into the mixer aisle. From their view, Trunks was definitely picking out ovens. Marron continued the conversation.

"What do you mean death?" she asked.

"Death, like someone or something dies." Pan gave the literal definition, "End of life stuff."

Marron stared at her dully. "I mean, who or _what_ dies?"

Pan paused, thinking about for a second. The older girl could tell that she definitely had a list. It was a bit strange for someone to know Trunks so well. Though he did wear his heart on his sleeve from time to time, he was mainly a private person who didn't like to share things, not even with Goten who shared a body with him from time to time.

"Well, I guess it doesn't have to be a person or a thing. Sometimes, it's relationships and projects he was really looking forward to. When he first got the company though, he killed this plant his grandma got him and I guess that's what started it all," Pan added a small giggle before she continued to the more serious part of the list.

"I don't really blame him though. After one of his cats died a few years ago, things just went downhill. His grandfather died a year after and his grandma the following year. Last September—to this day, actually—his assistant's long lost love got ran over after a meeting in his office. He was so excited to set up this fancy dinner for them, and then _bam_ —they didn't even make it across the street.

"It kind of even more sad when you think about how much he loves cold weather. This is supposed to be his most happiest time of the year, but all he gets is disappointing news," Pan explained with a bittersweet smile. She then finished with, "But since you're his new best friend, just let him know that things end so other things could begin. It's only logical. He'll be less of a pain in the ass."

Marron wasn't really sure what to say after that. She just nodded, "Sure."

"Hey, I got the one for you!" Trunks then hollered across the store, holding up the oven he chose.

Pan snarled, "That's a _microwave_ , you dumbass."

"When was the last time you even cooked?" he called back.

"Coming from the guy who couldn't even peel a potato!"

"Hey, we made chips that night!"

The blonde quickly intervened before the two started an even bigger scene.

* * *

They were on Earth already and those _moronic monkeys_ still had no clue. He was going avenge his father, and he was going to do it one by one, starting with those mixed breed babies of theirs. Of course, he was going to save the Prince's son for last. It was only poetic.

"Lord Kuriza," entered a voice in the cold room. He didn't have to turn his seat; his subjects listened by a simple hand gesture. It was Brutus, his most loyal officer. The giant man stopped when his lord raised his hand.

"I take it that the intergalactic patrol are still chasing me in another corner of the universe." When he spoke, it was less of a question and more of a confirmation, not that anybody had the choice to disappoint him. "I know that the Saiyans are in contact with that one buffoon."

Brutus agreed. "Patrolman Jaco still thinks you're on Ravi. The king has done his part of pretending you two are currently negotiating."

"Fools," Kuriza smirked. He had been under their noses all along, controlling their lives as he pleased. No one noticed a thing. He had watched them as they slept, as they lived, as they even breathed. They were all working so hard to overpower him, but they didn't even _touch_ his power level.

"How did your mission go, sire?" Brutus asked after a while. Kuriza sighed. Maybe he shouldn't have killed off the other two. Brutus was talking too much now.

"We are not friends, so you don't need to ask me how anything goes," he told him. However, out of his own admitted pride, he held up the small device from the apartment he visited so often. "She truly is helping me kill her first. It's almost a shame."

"Do you want to exclude her in the plans?"

"Brutus, don't make me kill you instead."

* * *

 _End_.


	15. Part II - Chapter 15

_Between Friends_ —

Rated: M (for obvious reasons)

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything related to the DragonBall franchise.

Summary: Another adulthood-esque fic. Identity crises & long talks.

Pairings: Trunks/Pan. Goten/Marron. Bra/Uub.

Note: Hi, this is my first DBZ-related fic and I doubt I'll ever figure out the plot completely. Writing as we go! ( **08/2016 Updates** : new formatting and rewrites on previous chapters. _All_ previously replied reviews  & author notes have been posted on my Tumblr page. I just wanted to focus on the writing, please.)

 **Additional Note** : There's really no excuse for me to lag on this chapter (and if you noticed, the previous chapters have yet to be completely updated). A lot of the content I had saved on was deleted, but again, it was my fault due to activity. I am trying to recover the majority of it, but I'm also in my second year of law school so please be patient! Thank you again for reading!

Anyway, Pan not liking her Saiyan side transfers onto this chapter too. Being interracial myself, I kind of wanted her to have trouble identifying with the different cultures in her blood. I read somewhere that as Saiyan blood dilutes, the less chances a hybrid can transform into a Super Saiyan/they become weaker. Of course, Pan's already stated to be able to transform, but she's not going to rely on it on the upcoming chapters I'm writing! (And yes, I'm actually writing a lot!)

* * *

 ** _CHAPTER 15_** **  
**September | 111 Days Before

He rolled the small capsule between his fingers, waiting for the elevator light to shine the bright **25** of her floor. The soft vibrations shaking the metal walls eased some of his nerves, but not enough to make him relax completely. After all, he didn't have any intention of seeing Pan for— _well, he wasn't sure how long_ —but just a week after their small run-in at the store was categorized both as a little too soon and a little too late.

What's the time difference between friends, lovers, and exes anyway?

Nonetheless, Trunks wasn't headed for the office on this Friday noon even if he wanted to; like the dress fitting last week, his mother teamed up with his assistant to temporarily ban him from his workplace until Monday morning. After an annoying but relatively short debate between his parents (his mom being the victor), his weekends were now going to be split between training and then dancing. Of course, he only managed to get away today because Bra and Boxer were bickering.

Truthfully, Trunks didn't care. Was this _his_ first choice? Absolutely not, but his mother asked, and he was respecting her wishes.

Plus, for as long as he'd understood his father, the less time the old man spent in the Gravity Room, the less tense and anxious he was. Maybe it was his fault that he grew to wear his heart on his sleeve.

Anyway, the store had accidentally mixed in a mixer with his bed set, so that was the reason why he had bothered to come to Pan's in the first place. He guessed he could've dropped the capsule off with Goten, but since they parted ways to train separately in the summer, he hadn't spent much time with his oldest friend. It was decided that their individual strengths mattered more for now and eventually, they would get in some time as Gotenks.

He had Bra call earlier to see if Pan was even home, and Uub answered that she was allegedly " _busy_ " but also, she pretty much wouldn't be leaving any time soon. When asked if he wanted to let her know that he was coming to see her, Trunks decided to leave it as a surprise. She liked randomly popping into his life, and it was about time he had the chance to do the same. At least, that was the initial confidence he had going in.

Now, the only thing making him not leave was his bigger want to _not_ be in tights and a leotard instead. It didn't help much that when he asked Marron to be his dance partner earlier that day (the Christmas Ball was going to feature a _six-piece_ dance number with fake snow and all that crap), she laughed in his face. Trunks, of course, wasn't offended because of her responsibilities as a teacher, but it didn't necessarily help his self-esteem either. When he asked if she wanted to come with him, Marron also reminded _him_ how he left her alone at the hospital visit. It was fair (he guessed).

Earlier, when he was in the lobby, the idea of him and Pan dancing crossed his mind—his hand on her hip, them swaying to the music surrounded by champagne lights, him in a suit and the skirt of her dress would be all flowy and sweet. It was a good idea until he remembered the arguing, the yelling, the name calling—all of which he didn't care for, but they weren't even friends now. How would he even ask her?

The elevator finally stopped on the final floor and he stepped out into the narrow hallway, still rolling the capsule between his fingers. Trunks shook of any and all thoughts in his head, gearing up his poker face. He knocked only once, though someone was already answering the door.

"Listen, I'll tip more if you can do me a favor and—oh, it's _you_."

Trunks refrained from rolling his eyes. Her hair was in a messy ponytail and her pajamas were stained with something green. She was holding a tissue in one hand and her wallet with the other. Apparently, being less Saiyan than the average hybrid meant more chances of catching earthling diseases like the common cold.

Pan huffed, turning her head to the side. "Look, if you came here to fight then I'm not in the—" she sneezed a disgustingly loud sneeze before turning back to the living room, "I'm not in the mood! Ya' got it?!"

The open door left behind was her gesture for entry. He walked in, shutting it. Pan, wobbling instead of flying, slumped back onto the couch into a cocoon of blankets. On her coffee table was nothing but open menus and finished containers.

His frown deepened.

"So you made me buy you an _entire_ kitchen set just to eat out all the time?" Trunks complained, earning a glare from the head peeping out of the cocoon. "Do you know how big of a dent you left in my bank account?"

Pan stared at him dully, sitting up somehow. "First of all, you literally have more money than King Furry by a tenfold," she sneezed again, but this time, her head shot back and hit the arm rest. He laughed under his breath, but she had too much of another point to care. " _Several tenfolds_ ," she corrected herself, "Second of all, I haven't installed anything because I've been a little under the weather!"

"Obviously," slipped off his sarcastic tongue, and he was surprised that she let him live.

She quickly changed the subject, "Goten's at work and Uub's in his room. Do whatever you came to do and leave me alone."

"Actually, about that," he watched as an old chopstick fell to the ground. Seriously, when was the last time someone cleaned this place? "I came to see you, but I guess you're sick as usual this time of year."

"Well, _excuse me_ if my human side isn't immune to most germs, but my magical alien side makes most medicines ineffective," she sighed, adjusting her head back down. Her voice wasn't angry—annoyed, maybe—but he didn't sense any maliciousness from her. It actually made him a little curious, but he changed his mind.

Trunks tossed the capsule, vaguely explaining, "They mixed some of your things with mine."

Pan started with wanting to say something a little less positive, but she also was tired and felt a headache coming on. Soon, someone was knocking at the door and she groaned after getting comfortable. To her surprise though, Trunks went to answer it, taking her wallet with him.

When he returned, he came back with the soups and bread she ordered from the nearby grocery store. He tried to set the new bags down, but everything was in the way so, _well_ , he picked up a little. The chopstick was still irritating him a bit.

"What are you doing?" she sat up, reaching for her food but failing when he took it back.

"This place is gross," Trunks said, taking out all the containers from the grocery bag, and placing them neatly in front of her. Pan stared at him as he even aligned the utensils and handed her napkins for her lap. Before she could even say anything, he had gathered all the trash and left to the kitchen.

When he couldn't find the garbage bin because of all the appliance boxes in the kitchen, Trunks sighed and begrudgingly decided to set those up for her while he was here. He had paid for everything anyway; he might as well make sure they're properly installed. Pan, sneezing and coughing with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, walked into the kitchen to see what the commotion was about.

"Why are you doing that?" she questioned and again, was rewarded with a short answer.

"I'll go donate these," was the only thing he offered before putting all her old appliances in the storage capsule that the mixer came in. Though Pan did still wonder why was he even bothering (she had a guy coming in next week), the realization of exactly _how much_ he bought her that day was a bit troubling. He wasn't kidding when he said he bought her an entire kitchen set. She went in for an oven, and got that plus a fridge, a drink cooler, and other nonsense that would be excessive if she didn't live in an already expensive penthouse.

Ironically, she used to always be so stubborn about anybody buying her anything. She didn't like it. However, since the previews of her commercial were released on the Satan Gym website, prior to her television debut, she couldn't deny gifts anymore like she used to. Unlike before, she now had fanatics who simply wanted to give her things for their own personal reasons; ones that she couldn't fathom to understand, but couldn't heartlessly not accept. (Granted, Trunks wasn't a fan and he didn't want to buy her things initially, but still.)

Arguably, he could've just stopped at the oven too. Trunks usually had a set of rules for not only his life, but restrictions for specific relationships with people. Sure, he was sweet with Marron and Uub, but that's because they made it as close friends. Bra ranked above them by miles because she was family, and Goten was a forced exception since they shared a body and a mind from time to time. The only reason why she, Pan, had managed to be close to someone as anal as Trunks was because she didn't care for his laws. She just wanted to spend time with him.

Of course, she didn't know how much importance she had in his life at the moment, but from what he was doing now, she had the privilege of him organizing her fridge, but he wasn't going to be nice about it (even though she didn't ask in the first place). That must've counted for something... _not that she cared, obviously_ ,

Anyway, when it was clear that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, Pan floated back to living room, retrieved one of her soups, and then ate her food in the air. She didn't know where this source of energy was coming from, but she didn't want to be in his way. She refrained from laughing as he made a game to reorganize her snack cabinets.

She continued to watch him as he picked up some more around the living room. He swept, dusted, and even straightened picture frames. Pan moved back onto the couch, eyeing him the entire time. A little more fine with the idea, but a little suspicious as well.

"There, you should get better faster now," Trunks declared proudly, smirking as he flopped onto the furthest seat away from her. Unfortunately, because the smell of the trash wasn't strong anymore, it was apparent that he forgot to shower after his training session from the morning.

Pan stuck out her tongue, pretending to barf. "Don't get me wrong, thanks for clearing up my sinuses, but I think you scared my nose."

He put down his arms, crossing them. Only his eyes moved to look at her. The rest of his face was trying to calm down from the small embarrassment.

Pan then sighed, "What are you even up to, you doof? I thought you were only bringing my mixer."

He didn't have an immediate response. Instead, he stared at her until she felt a little insecure from him looking at her a little too much. She assumed she must've had a runny nose. She covered her face, turning away.

"What are you _looking_ at?" It was rhetorical because she was complaining.

"You're really pretty," he said bluntly and unintentionally. They were both taken aback by the sentiment. Trunks coughed to remain his composure. "Because of your genetics. I mean, everyone in your family looks better without makeup. Goku looks great and he doesn't own eyeliner."

She didn't know _how_ to react. Trunks shut his mouth before any more of his word vomit spilled.

A moment later, Uub came out of his room after the musk of their home no longer existed.

"Goten's home?" the island boy then stopped, seeing the Brief heir. Without any discretion whatsoever, Uub also began to smirk. " _Oh_ ," he faced the sick girl on the couch with an optimistic smile, "I didn't know we were having _that_ kind company today."

"Actually, I came here for you," Trunks quickly changed the subject without missing a beat. Pan shook off her disappointment. He continued to tell Uub, "Bra's looking for a dance partner. Since you don't have anything to do, it's your job now."

"Wait, when did I—" Uub was then cut off with Trunks shooing him away.

"My sister was going to ask you anyway. You might as well beat her to the punch," Trunks insisted, rising from his seat and moving Uub along. Before the younger man could even realize it, he was out of the front door and on his way to the Capsule Corp. compound. Trunks returned to where Pan was.

When he caught of a glimpse of her sleeping, he felt a tightening in his chest. One that was soft, but erratic; slow, but anxious. There was no point of really being here anymore. By now, dance practice was already over and he already did what he came here to do.

Yet, he remained.

Trunks sat in the seat opposite of hers, still being cautious of not getting sick (despite not being able to get sick), but not making effort to finish his day the way he intended. As he stared at the ceiling, the little memories he had of her place suddenly amplified and took over his brain.

He remembered the chaotic thirty minutes of setting up Goten's proposal, the next ten minutes of hiding in the small coat closet, and their drunken sleepover after that.

He remembered the sweet scent of sweat and soap from the small of her back after waking up that morning, how they bickered over what to wear to the bistro across the street, and the intense training they had with his father later that day, before spending the night at the pool. He remembered how close they were, and how it felt to not be in control in a way that was actually enjoyable. He remembered how they almost kissed, and how naturally it clicked inside of him to stop being a coward, to actually go after something that he wanted and wanted only.

He remembered how she got back at him for dunking her head in the water, and how their first real kiss went, not the shy one from the years before. The kiss that was on the roof of this building that tasted like whiskey and fruit, the one that excited him and terrified him all at once. This place, _her place_ , was not yet tainted by any terribleness; and maybe that's why he didn't want to argue with her, why he didn't mind picking up things, and making her cold a little less painful.

That, and maybe because he was tired too, sick even.

The bitterness he expected in the summer of their breakup only surfaced in the short time she had been back in town, and seeing her in his office that day didn't make it any better. He was disappointed, then pissed, and a little jealous truthfully. She looked _so fine_ without him, like their history didn't faze her once. Like their brief time together, and the years of friendship before that, were just— _was just_ —a time they had... nothing more, nothing less. They made promises to do this all or nothing, right? So, was he just... nothing?

The thought crossed his mind longer than he wanted to admit, but it was crossed and it was done with in the same second. Again, he was tired, and he figured it was time to go home.

Trunks got up from his seat and went over to go put her leftovers in the fridge. He, for some unexplained reason to him, stopped as he stood in front of her. She was still asleep, and breathing from her mouth at a steady pace. Again, for another reason unexplained to him, he lowered himself to his knees and just watched.

It was creepy, and a bit gross considering she was drooling a bit, but he was fixated on that face of hers. Her hair was growing out again, and without a trim, the ends of her hair were standing up in all directions, much like everyone else in her family. A piece of her fringe was scratching the tip of her nose, so Trunks decided to fix it for her.

His hand brushed her lips when he pulled away, and then found itself tracing them again with his thumb. She looked peaceful when she slept, and was a lot less loud. Of course, he never had a problem with her volume in the first place.

He then decided, for the betterment of his own heart and hers, it was time to let go. It was like healing a bruise with his own energy, the same way she had healed him that day. He needed something to move forward, and to start anew.

He believed to truly heal wounds, old blood must spill before his veins recirculated him with the new. Not that she was a scar, or any kind of painful marker on his skin, but nothing good came from holding onto something that was only poisoning them now. Like this home, he didn't want his thoughts or ideas of her to be tainted.

Trunks guessed he could apologize when she was awake, but this moment was for him and only him. He leaned down and kissed the back of his thumb, leaving the space between her lips and his. He figured that way, the universe wouldn't jynx him.

As he got up to leave, his eyes caught the lonely vase beside the stairs leading up to the second floor, the white tulips and blue hyacinths. He felt content seeing them again, and being assured that they were being taken care of. He would've been a little more hopeful, but then again, he was a cursed man.

* * *

Bra wiped the sweat dripping from her hairline, taking a swig from her water bottle. It wasn't that the routine itself was exhausting, but it was taking a whole _lot_ of her to not strangle the bastard. Mai, her mother's assistant, came and sat in practice on the request that she would be Trunks's dance partner (wherever he was, if she even knew).

They were on their third hour of practice, and to be honest, she hadn't learn anything because Boxer spent the majority of the time berating her posture. She was a _scientist_. Her calculations were consistently precise!

"Hey, lazyass, you finish?" hollered the blond abomination across the room. Mai let out a sigh as Bra narrowed her eyes.

"Can we call it a day? None of our partners are even here," the youngest Brief was trying to remain polite for her own sanity.

Boxer crossed his arms irritably. "That's because _my_ partner doesn't need any practice. You, on the other hand? Three months _still_ isn't enough."

"Well, doesn't that speak more on you since you're the teacher?" Mai added nonchalantly, falling asleep against the wall. This caused Bra to stick her tongue out the dancer.

"You know what—" Luckily, Boxer was cut off by a visitor entering the GR. The Brief heiress smiled when she saw her father.

Vegeta, however, announced, "Unless you're willing to die by my hand, I suggest you leave."

Boxer and Mai scattered out the room as Bra flew to be beside her father. However, he didn't even look at her when he dismissed her.

"That invitation also extended to you."

She pouted, "Why are you suddenly so grumpy?"

The old man gathered all the ridiculous floor-length mirrors and stacked them outside before returning. (Bulma would've had a fit if she found out he was that reckless.) He went back to the gravity machine and punched in a few numbers. His hand seemed to stop and hover above the start button. That, indefinitely, caused Bra to be even more concerned for his well-being.

"Papa?"

He pounded a fist at the empty space next to the start button instead, gnashing his teeth at the ground. "The _point_ of you all returning was to train, but what have we done?! Absolutely nothing!"

When his closed hand left a dent on the machine, her concerned only deepened.

"I've failed you. I've failed everyone. I've been too soft and now look at me—I'm _withering_ with age. This body can no longer protect," he paused for a cheap, disappointed laugh. "I guess I've always meant to destroy..."

Bra reached out a hand to him, but concluding that it wouldn't resolve anything, she took it back. It was moments like these where she wished their family had been more affectionate, more filled with hugs and words of encouragement, so that this kind of illogical stuff would feel natural, but it didn't. She couldn't even muster the pride to straighten her back.

"Papa..." her words trailed into a silence. What would she even say? She was starting to feel a little hopeless too.

A few minutes later, her mother came in, excusing the both of them to her lab. Bra followed her down the hall, growing more anxious by the step. The room was empty, but her mother was on a conference call via video chat. On the big screen above her desk, Jaco was there impatiently on the left; and Goku was on mute on the right.

"So the grumpy man is done with his fit?" the galactic patrolman tapped his foot.

Vegeta snarled, but said nothing. He just stood, looking away. Goku seemed to be training. Her mother decided to cut off all the nonsense.

"Enough, Jaco. Are you sure Kuriza's not on Ravi as you said?" Bulma questioned again for confirmation. Jaco coughed, returning to the subject at hand. It was serious.

"We've raided the planet and it ended up being a blood bath. Not by our hand, but Kuriza's had a few men on a suicide mission. Once we were zoning in on them, they were ordered to not only destroy themselves, but half the population. It won't surprise me if Ravi's going to be sold in the black market soon," he explained, hopping into his space ship. Suddenly, the severity of the moment faded when she noticed the bits of ramen at the edge of his mouth.

Bulma scoffed, "You know this and you can't help them, Jaco?! And what do you mean by _we_?"

"Law doesn't work that way and you know that, Bulma," he strapped himself in his seat. "I'm headed to Earth. You know I'm only doing this on unofficial business, so if anybody asks, try to remain quiet. No dramatic responses."

The screen went blank and her mother pushed the button to retract the screen. She let out a sigh, rubbing the temples of her head. "I swear he comes even more useless every time we touch base," the older woman confessed, sitting down on her desk. "We have to do something, but I hate planning without an actual plan."

Bra nodded. She felt the same way. That's why she had thought training without fully understanding their enemy was a bit rash and foolish. She looked toward her father.

However, though they both had expected an answer from him, Vegeta didn't have anything to say. He nodded off and left. Bra felt her insides twist even more. She looked toward her mother who was more hurt than disappointed.

"Mom," the younger paused as her voice began to sink into a frail tone. "What does... what does this mean?"

Bulma, as a mother should do, put on a brave face as she turned to her youngest child. She smiled a soft smile and changed the subject completely, "I think someone told me Uub came to see you about being your dance partner. You shouldn't keep him waiting."

* * *

When she woke up, Pan felt her headache shrink. It helped a lot that the place didn't smell like sweat and body odor. Her sinuses were clearing up, and she actually felt well-rested for once.

She touched the bottom of her lip, unadmittedly smiling. She dreamt of something sweet: the beach day they were all supposed to have this summer, but never had the chance. It was surreal, like she had actually been there.

Goten and Marron were playing (destructive) volleyball, and the blonde only managed to score a point because her ring blinded him at the last second.

Bra, still pulling her pranks, had created an entire sand- _kingdom_ that buried Uub as he napped with Giru. When he woke up, his eyes went wide as she waved thirty feet above him, with a bucket full of water in tow. Giru sounded all kinds of alarms.

On the other side of the beach, her and Trunks were trying a food truck that he'd been raving about for days, reading off reviews and taking all kinds of pictures for his social media accounts. They served homemade gelato. In an attempt to make him laugh, she flung her spoon in the air, but instead of landing in her mouth, it hit her on the nose.

He called her a messy eater, proceeding to lick his thumb (disgusting), and wiping the stain on her face. She pouted and then he moved his hand lower, grazing her bottom lip. She honestly thought he was going to kiss her, but then she woke up and he wasn't even here anymore. It was bittersweet... but she was still going to smile anyway.

She couldn't do anything but smile. Pan figured that if she kept doing so then it would feel better and hurt less. This was her decision, after all. Her story that she wanted to write on her own accord, all by herself. She wasn't going to cry. She just wasn't.

So, she didn't. She took a deep breath, sat up, and calmed herself. There was no crying to be had.

After a minute or so, she realized she needed something to do, probably something out of the house. She was only in the city still because she was sick, but maybe she should've went to go catch up with her manager on the other side of the world.

Yet, that's not what she wanted. At least, not right now.

As she turned to her left, her phone caught her attention, making itself bold in her mind. It was almost like it was calling out to her, or making her drawn to it. For some reason unknown to her, she picked it up and naturally dialed a number.

The phone ranged a few times before eventually reached the voicemail box.

" _If you've managed to reach my personal cell, then you should already know who this is. If this is Bra, stop taking my things. If not, leave a message. Bye._ "

He hadn't changed it. The voicemail let out a let beep to tell her it was recording now. Now she was laughing.

"Hey, it's me... not that you should know who _me_ is, but you remember my voice, don't you?"

Pan stopped, deciding that she didn't like that one. She quickly deleted the message and waited to be prompted to record again.

"It's Pan. Thanks for cleaning. I had a dream where we almost kissed and I just thought—"

Nope. She recorded again.

"Look, I don't know what you want me to say. I thought you hated me, but then suddenly, you're cleaning up and setting up my kitchen! What do you want me to think that even means!?"

Definitely not that one.

"It's... listen, it's Pan... just Pan. I'm calling because I wanted to say thanks for earlier. I think I feel better already, or at least, that's how I feel. You know I'm not good at this..."

Why was this so difficult?

She deleted it again, pausing for a deep breath. This was going to be her last message (or messages), so she said what she wanted to say. That was it.

After she hung up, Pan left to the hospital to visit her grandfather.

* * *

Marron blew her whistle as loud as she could possibly could. Everyone froze, and some balls dropped from some gloves. She yelled out, "Alright! Softball practice is over. Hit the locker rooms, clean up and then go have a good weekend!"

The murmurs of _Alright, coach!_ and _Finally!_ circulated around the air, making her laugh. This year, she had a strange mix of some entertaining students. Of course, she had the regular student athletes who talked about this weekend's party at some rich senior's house. However, she managed to snag some of the more introverted and brilliant ones as captains. (While they weren't in a rush to follow the loud yelling in the locker room, they talked about some magical card game meetup at a bistro this weekend before they joined the rest of the team.)

Nonetheless, the usual banter went about too: talks about crushes, teachers they disliked, who was the school's current popular girl, and so on. There were some _other_ things that they were discussing that made her blush, but it was pretty harmless. _Kids these days were so vocal about everything_ , she sighed, waiting for them to hurry so she could pick up the equipment.

Cleaning up the field only took a few minutes. Since she couldn't train so much with Vegeta lately (and she sarcastically swears it wasn't by choice), Marron rushed her duties (like throwing the bats and balls in the bin; picking up the teachers' lunch orders; seeing how much staples she could pick up from the air before the copy machine sounded off, etc.) to make sure she wasn't getting sloppy. Last week, she helped the janitor clean the windows.

Alright, maybe, she might've went overboard and wiped down the entire building as well. To be fair, she _could_ fly, even if it wasn't her preferred method of travel.

"Hey, Marron! I see you're staying late again," called a voice that had been seeing her every day of this week. She turned around, waving a small wave. Gohan approached with his leather briefcase. "How did practice go?"

As a favor to his old teachers that should've retired decades ago, Gohan was guest lecturing on how to prepare for the future with the older students. He often stayed after school to tutor whoever needed it, but also—though unadmittedly—he needed excuse to be in the city just in case the hospital called or Pan did. In a way, he kept busy the same way she did.

"Fine," she smiled brightly, trying to make polite conversation. "I just try to do my part, that's all. How many kids met you after school today?"

Being modest, the oldest hybrid said, "Just a few," despite his popularity. "Do you need a ride home?"

She shook her head, not that she ever accepted his offer anyway.

"Nah, I kind of like walking home by myself. The loft isn't too far off," the blonde coughed, quickly changing the subject, "So, how's your father-in-law? I ran into Pan last week after her commercial aired. She definitely flipped everyone's opinions of her during the summer. What she's doing is exciting. You must be proud."

Hearing that, Gohan didn't hold back and for a moment; she was a mix of happiness and small envy. The older proudly stated with a humble laugh, "You should see her plans for these gyms! We were all a bit worried when she wanted to drop out of college, but I think she's found a way to do what she loves to do on her own time. She's a little like her mom that way, but I love it."

"You two have always been pretty amazing parents. Kind of makes me wish I had one myself," she accidentally let slip without noticing. Gohan heard it, but decided not to speak on it. Marron gave a lackluster grin, yawning a bit. "Well, I think it's getting late for the both of us. I have to go lock up the gym, but I'm guessing Videl likes it better when you're home early."

He nodded, "Yeah, she does."

"Well then, I guess this is goodbye. See you—"

She was ready to leave, but the older Son brother wasn't quite finished yet. It made her stop in her tracks. Her heart felt heavy.

"Marron?"

"Um, yeah? What's up?"

"I'm... I'm sorry for the pain my brother caused. I know it's not any of my business..." Gohan shook his head as if he was still deciding if this is what he wanted to say. "I have no place to say anything, but you'll always be family to us, all of us. That doesn't just go away because you're not together right now."

 _Oh_ , did that _right now_ sting.

"We're always rooting—" If Dende was truly working in her favor now, and he was, Gohan's phone rang from his jacket pocket. He quickly answered it, giving her some time to breathe. "Is everything—just stay there. I'll be there."

Gohan, even with his manners, didn't give her a proper goodbye. He just flew off without another word. A part of her was concerned, but the majority of her was relieved. She finished her duties on the campus and then went home. For the next several hours, she left her phone on silent and she closed the curtains.

Again, now until Saturday morning, this was her time to relax and recollect herself.

* * *

She was on her way to see Uub in the living room, but hating the feeling of sweat sticking to her body, Bra decided to change beforehand. Tights would give him company in the meantime.

It was when she got to her room, however, she found another guy on her bed, in a lab coat and beige capri pants, ruffling his hair and such as she closed the door. She tread carefully.

"Long time no see," Goten greeted. He didn't even bother to get up. Truthfully, they hadn't had a conversation, or any kind of interaction, since their poisonous time in the snow. Her heart still felt frigid.

"Why are you here?" she stared him down, deciding to take the seat across from him at her vanity. He figured that's what she would do.

"Honestly, I came to check if you'd still have me. It's been a stressful month," his smile was so smug that when she rolled her eyes, she saw the front of her brain. "But I guess, I can't win you over, can I?"

She nodded, not even a hint of remorse or doubt. He pulled something out of his pocket. Even at a distance, she knew what it was. She knew what _this_ was now. Goten kept nodding his head in disbelief.

"Lost one girl, lost another. Pan doesn't even look at me the same," his jaw clenched. "You were right you know, I'm fucking selfish."

Bra immediately stood up, already deciding how this conversation was going to go. "No," she declared. " _No_ , you're not bringing this to me _._ "

He said nothing.

"Just because you're throwing yourself another pity party, that doesn't mean it's automatically _my_ problem too. When I said I don't want you, I meant I don't want you in any shape or form in my life again," she stood her ground. "Leave."

He didn't even put up a fight. Goten rose from her bed, mumbling, "Fine. If it's like that, the _fine_. It's not like I didn't need someone to talk to anyway."

She gritted her teeth, and then relaxed her jaw. She was starting to pity him. "I'm not the one you want, and you know that," her voice was strong and concise, like she was trying to pierce through his mind. "You and I were never each other's first choice. Maybe you got it in your head that you loved me, but that's because I was just..." she took a deep breath, "... a safe alternative. I'm not the real thing. Not for you."

Goten considered all she was saying, swallowed her words and everything. However, it wasn't his head or even his heart that led him here. It was his self-loathing and, well, his dick.

Her eyes widen when he moved to steal a kiss from her. They remained large and wide throughout all ten seconds of it.

It was hollow, shallow really. He was a good kisser, but the mechanics of such an act wasn't what made it great. The connection was gone. The want was evaporated. The mess in her head a few months prior were sorted and straightened. She found the kiss to be meaningless, and from the look on his face when they broke, he seemed to have felt the same way.

He was disappointed; half because he also felt foolish, and the other half because this wasn't the truth he wanted. He didn't want to believe he was as miserable as he felt, as he was. Looking for compassion, but found pity and nothingness.

Bra didn't apologize for feeling the way she did. This indifferent kind of care is how, she believed, it should've been. She didn't regret much, or even hurt much, but there was a loss here. She couldn't imagine them even as friends anymore, but maybe that's how it was meant to be. This was just a small fluke between two parallel worlds.

He left through the window and that was best. She hurried to get dressed.

* * *

Goten sensed him, but didn't bother to slow down. He figured it was going to happen eventually, and he guessed, it only happened sooner since he was at his place and all. He wasn't bothering to hide his energy. They stopped in a deserted island on some sand.

Trunks didn't a _hello_ or any sort of greeting to greet him. He only had a fist. In seconds, the Brief heir was glowing gold and impacting his face. It didn't hurt, but Goten fell onto the sand anyway. Hovering above him, Trunks was gritting his teeth, reminiscent of his father.

"My fucking _sister_?" the older man grabbed a hold of the younger's lab coat collar.

Goten, unfazed, repeated back the same tone. "Like you're the one to talk, asshole."

Quickly, he jumped up and Trunks slipped, dragging him along with him.

They fought (or scuffled) with no special powers, no special strength, but with just their closed hands. Eventually, Goten threw off his lab coat and t-shirt, and Trunks ripped off his. As the water dragged dirt to their pants and wet their shoes, they boxed until, not when _they_ were tired, but when they were done beating up themselves. Pain or no pain, they both had had a long day—an even longer year—and frankly, just needed to punch something.

The fighting only stopped because in one slip up, Trunks decked Goten in the jaw again and the younger flew over. It wasn't that the Brief man wasn't pissed, but they had been friends long enough to know when to stop an argument. It didn't mean he had to give Goten a hand, but he wasn't punching him, at least.

"Get up. You're not dead," Trunks said, offering that and only that.

"Looks like we need to catch up, don't we, old friend?" Goten spat a tooth.

* * *

The window brought in the crisp sun, not that he could feel it, but it was there. It was bright.

A whistle came from the door, not that Fadel needed to know who it was. Kaje was shameless. He turned and she yawned, "Yeeva told me to tell you to meet her by the pond. She's already there. I can't read her, but she doesn't ask me to do anything, so it must be urgent."

 _Urgent_? Something pulsated inside of him. _Had she done it_?

"Yes, thank you," he wasn't going to give anything up in his voice. "I'll see her immediately."

"Zeeko's crying but it's probably another Pan thing," the usual bitterness in her voice at that name wasn't present this time.

Fadel thought to question it, but Zeeko had informed him that the Earth visits to watch Pan train was enough to make Kaje less aggressive. Apparently, she was hoping that the earthling would be the closest thing to get her revenge, or at least, that's what he was told.

Kaje sighed, flipping her hair to the side. "I'll check on him."

"You will?" Fadel raised a brow. That, he did question.

"Sure," she faced the door, "whatever you two are doing doesn't interest me." She paused, making his skin crawl. "Just remember how you killed _your_ other half. I was there when it was just us three, without Yeeva and Zeeko. We need five, so don't kill mine."

Kaje walked out without another word. Fadel only let out a _tsk_.

That woman was shameless by every sense of the word.

* * *

Despite the clamor in the waiting room, the security guards trying to shut down reporters, and the glaring obnoxious hospital lights; Pan remained still in her seat with a hoodie over her head. Her parents were talking with the doctors, situating the death certificate and whatever the coroner wanted. They weren't with her, but she wanted time to herself.

She just wanted to come and see him; she wanted to tell him all the things that were happening with her projects. The good things! She had pictures of Buu and Bee printed out for him to see. His dedication plaque was going to be finished _next week_. How was she going to show him now?

His life wasn't the same as her other grandpa, the one who cheated freaking death _twice_.

No, of course not, even her old teacher got a second chance at life, a man who couldn't even _hug_ his son for eight years. Was that the privilege of being a Saiyan? How _freaking_ miserable.

"Pan?"

She clenched her jaw at the sound of her name and turned to owner of the voice. Boxer was wearing a leotard and rushing to the seat beside her. She was thankful that he didn't touch her. She tried to control her anger.

He explained himself, "I saw the news and came as soon as possible. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she lied, keeping her composure. "It's fine."

Boxer leaned over to the opposite arm rest, figuring not to push her but not accepting of whatever this was either. He tried to sound casual instead of empathetic. Pan was the last person he knew to give any pity too. "You know, when people say they're fine twice, it usually means they're not fine," he tread lightly.

"Don't psychoanalyze me. I'm _great_ ," she corrected herself, looking elsewhere. Suddenly, her eyes were feeling heavy and she knew what was coming. She _hated_ what was coming. "I'm really freaking great. What about you, huh? What's up with the tights?"

He didn't answer immediately. Boxer sank in his chair and sighed, "If you're going to make fun of me, then we don't have to talk at all. I only came for you anyway."

Figures. Now, she was pissed, but her eyes were still irritating her. "You're trying to use my grandfather's death as a way to squirm yourself into my life? Get the fu—"

" _No_ , _Pan_ ," he grabbed her hand with his right, still looking elsewhere. Quietly, in a voice she rarely heard from him, he assured her. "When I said I came for you, I mean I came for you. When you're ready to talk, then talk."

What was with this guy?

She furrowed her brows. "What if I don't want to talk?"

He shrugged. "Then we sit here. I just figured you didn't want to cry in front of your friends."

And he was right, she didn't. Too bad she didn't want to talk to him either.

Pan excused herself to go pee, not that she needed to, but security was having trouble with controlling the outside crowd. She wasn't about to keep her cool if anybody got out of hand.

Her dad gave her his cell phone to tell her when they were done with the paper work, and it wasn't until she realized she was in an empty bathroom that she thought to use it.

As the keypad stared back at her, truthfully, she didn't know who to call. Her manager was probably on the first plane back. After seeing that Boxer was already gone, Bra and Bulma were more than likely on their way; and she left a message for Uub and Goten on their answering machine. Her people were coming... shouldn't she had felt more relieved?

Her fingers started to move on their own volition, tapping a few digits and letting her thumb hover above the call button. It wasn't right to call him, especially after the messages she already left him, but she couldn't help herself.

Pan found herself in the stall, the furthest away from the door. She locked it and sat on top of the toilet seat. The greeting played as she bit the nail of her other thumb. Unbeknownst to her, like most cinematic fashion in calls to an ex-lover, her cheeks were being stained with tears as her foot tapped impatiently.

" _If you've managed to reach my personal cell, then you should already know who this is. If this is Bra, stop taking my things. If not, leave a message. Bye._ "

A loud beep followed. Pan took a breath.

"It's not like you to not answer your phone. I've called you, like _what_? Four times by now? Nothing. I've gotten nothing," she straightened her back, taking a deep breath. "So, the Champ kicked the bucket. I came to see him before I left and— _boom_ —he dies. Just like that. In the middle of a sentence, and everything. You know what he fucking tells me? ' _Let it go..._ ' Let it go! One of a kind last fucking words!"

Her reality set it. She heaved, letting out a weak cry.

"Trunks, what do I do?! I can't do this! I'm in over my head about everything—the company, training for Kuriza, keeping distant from everyone, keeping distant from you—what the _fuck_ was I thinking?! I love you, I seriously am _in_ love you and here I am—"

The sound of another beep pierced her eardrum.

" _If you are satisfied with the following recording, please hang up. If you are not, please press 2 to rerecord or 3 to delete. Please press 1 to replay your recorded message._ "

She felt everything freeze, quickly falling into a dead silence. Her breath was caught in her throat, her nerves didn't feel a thing, and the air became light. She pressed the first button.

The recording replayed, and she wanted to scream. She wanted to _hit_ something. She sounded so... _crazy_! Desperate, defeated, _lost_... things that she didn't want to be!

" _If you are satisfied with the following recording, please hang up. If you are not_ —"

She pressed the third button before the message could even finish. Didn't she already make this decision for herself? Was she going to go back on her own word? Seriously?

Pan sat up despite her sinking heart. She wiped her face, fanning her fingers just in case of any puffiness. She felt numb, but this is what she chose.

* * *

He braced himself for impact, planting his shoe-less feet in the sand. Granted, that might make it hurt more, but this was an obligatory punch. Not for his sister, but for his friend. At least one of them was showing Marron the respect she deserved.

Trunks closed his fist, pulling back in his arm before release. Expecting to send Goten across the island, he paused a centimeter in front of his face and flicked him between the eyes.

"Hey, _ouch_ ," the veterinarian rubbed the reddening skin. "What was that for? Not that I'm complaining or anything."

"I thought about it," Trunks picked up his destroyed shirt from the ground. He frowned. It was an expensive piece of athletic wear. "I could hurt you all I want, but what difference does it make? Your life already sucks. A black eye won't do anything."

The younger stared at him dully, deciding that he was fine being shirtless. "Thanks, I guess," he bent over to shore to wash some of the blood off. "I deserve that."

"Maybe," Trunks tossed the fabric away. "I don't know, man. I can't tell you how Marron feels, or even how you feel," he lied, but it was for the best Trunks decided. He didn't want Goten to get cocky. "But whatever she wants to do together with you is ultimately up to her."

"I should've just left the city with her that day," the younger stared off into the distance, onto the dark ocean. It hadn't occurred to either of them that it was night now. "Who knows? Maybe the kid would've been great for the both of us..."

Trunks shook his head while not saying a word. Everything he had said about Goten growing to be more mature than him—he took it _all_ back. Not that he wasn't in a different boat, but still.

Goten was going to add more into his rambling but was then cut off by something ringing from the older's pocket. Trunks pulled out his phone, disinterested as he saw his sister's name, but picking up anyway.

"Marron, is my brother with you? I've been trying to call him for the past hour!" Bra declared, sounding a bit rushed. In the background, he heard his mother and Uub talking to his aunt about Boxer.

"Why is she calling your phone for Marron?" Goten raised a brow suspiciously. Trunks ignored him.

Nonetheless, Trunks had the same question. "What are you talking about? You're literally calling my number," he told his sister as if it wasn't obvious enough. She paused and returned to the call.

"What are _you_ talking about? I know I called Marron because you're not answering your line. What are you doing with her phone?" Bra quickly changed the subject. "Whatever. Not important. Meet us at Gohan's place."

"What happened?" Goten interrupted, both to their annoyance.

Bra huffed, "Where are you two? Literally every station and everyone on the _street_ is rioting over Mr. Satan's death, like it's going to actually do some—"

Without any hesitation, Trunks quickly cut off his sister, "Where's Pan?"

* * *

 _End_.


	16. Part II - Chapter 16

_Between Friends_ —

Rated: M (for obvious reasons)

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything related to the DragonBall franchise.

Summary: Another adulthood-esque fic. Identity crises & long talks.

Pairings: Trunks/Pan. Goten/Marron. Bra/Uub.

Note: Hi, this is my first DBZ-related fic and I doubt I'll ever figure out the plot completely. Writing as we go! ( **08/2016 Updates** : new formatting and rewrites on previous chapters. _All_ previously replied reviews  & author notes have been posted on my Tumblr page. I just wanted to focus on the writing, please.)

 **Additional Note** : FIRST, Gohan and Videl's house is based on the one they have in Super. SECOND, I've been writing a lot of long chapters which I don't want to, hence the late upload for which I apologize. Anyway, I was debating whether or not to write a flashback chapter next. Would any of you like that? If yes, I have two options that will tie into the next chapter anyway:

1\. Prom Night, where Pan ditches Boxer to go to Paris with Bra. Something happens, and instead of telling any of their parents, Trunks meets them at the hospital with Marron (who pretends to be her mom). Nothing romantic since I don't ship Trunks with a young!Pan as I said before, but it's something a little fluffy to match the angst/slight smut in this. (Oh yeah, this is a _**smut warning**_ for this chapter lol)

or

2\. Pan's 21's birthday, which will just be a tease ship-wise since Trunks is basically just taking her out for a date. The idea of this option though can be integrated post-tournament chapter coming up after the flashback chapter! However, this is like the prelude of his crush starting up and Pan basically dissing him in a " _like it'll ever happen_ " kind of way and he starts building the confidence to do something.

If no, then pick one anyway because the more I talk about it, the more I want to do it! It's just a matter of what comes first.

* * *

 ** _CHAPTER 16_** **  
**September | 111 Days Before, Same Night

The car parked, making her leap forward from her seat and pushing her back all in the same second. Pan held in her breath.

"Sorry. We don't use hover cars back where I live," Boxer explained, though the horrid driving experience was evident enough. He turned off the engine much to the relief of the other passengers.

Gohan thanked him, holding onto his wife's hand. "I appreciate you for driving us... I'll give you two a second," he said, nodding his head to his daughter. "I'll see you inside."

Pan didn't need to be told twice. She watched as her father got out of the car, ran to the other side, and held open the door for her quiet mother. She wish she had something meaningful to say, being that she was the last person to be in the room with him and all. However, looking at her mother's face, there just wasn't any words to console the... well, _broken_.

Boxer pulled out the keys, blackening the headlights. They watched as Gohan supported the teetering Videl. The mute wife, mother, and now grieving daughter, hadn't cried at the hospital, neither entering or exiting it. The ride over was even more silent, leaving an ominous hidden countdown in its absence. All they knew was she would break soon, they just didn't know when.

He took another minute or so before turning to the passenger seat. Ever since _she_ had came out of the bathroom, Pan had been more or less silent — but not the same way her mother was wordless in her grief. She was more methodical, more pretend.

"So, this is where you grew up, huh? I never got to actually see it when we were younger," he noted to break the ice. Admittedly, it was a little lame but he needed to say _something_.

Pan nonchalantly looked away. She didn't hear the question but she answered anyway. "My Gramps commissioned this house when my mom was pregnant with me. I'm not here often."

"I see," the dancer mumbled quietly. Something was always better than nothing, he guessed.

Another silent passed. Boxer turned on the radio. It was _almost_ a solution... until every station played their late night playlists of love songs. For some reason, he stopped on an old jazz one. A song about about 'Minnie the Moocher' and her " _red-hot hoochie-coocher_ " somehow seem to worsen the situation.

"You don't have to try so hard, you know," Pan attempted after a while. She lowered the volume of the radio. "I appreciate what you've done, but I really, _really_ hate when people act like I'm fragile. It feels insulting."

Boxer, surprisingly to her, didn't sweat over that. He nodded and accepted it. It was like he was waiting for her to continue on instead. He wasn't treading water, but rather, he was waiting for her to come to the surface.

She didn't understand why that made her feel like she was drowning. Nevertheless, despite the circumstances, her lips actually curved into something of a smile. She felt like she could actually breathe.

It wasn't hard to sense the various energies coming from inside her childhood home. As soon as they had parked, she counted off the number of people she could've guessed were there. It didn't help that there was also the possibility of a number of martial artists concealing their ki. Pan hesitated, but not from her want to run away, but because in truth, she was tired from being sick all morning and crying all day. She didn't have the energy to talk.

Noticing this, as they were standing in front of the lawn, Boxer suggested if there was a place where they could sit outside for a while. Pan nodded, and then she offered him her hoodie. She almost forgot that he wasn't in proper clothes.

They walked around the house until they found a swing set beside a sandbox. She noticed the light coming from the kitchen window, but ignored it. Boxer was the first to sit down on one of the swings; she took the other.

"These remind me of the ones I grew up with at the beach," he grinned, flashing his teeth. Pan never noticed how lanky he actually was. As he kicked his legs in the air, the hood of her sweater dragged onto the dirt.

"You have a beach house in Omori? That must be nice... I wanted to go to the beach all summer," she added, trying to make polite conversation. It wouldn't kill her to try, she thought.

He tried _not_ to let her talking to him make him cocky. This was one of the first conversations they had after the whole dance thing, after all. Although, he had to admit it felt nice to be noticed in some small way.

"Yeah, it's my mom's. She was really close with the man the island was named after. When he passed, he left her his house. It was one of the reasons why I decided not to come back to the city," Boxer responded. He figured it was best not to think so much.

" _Oh_? I thought you just weren't allowed to come back."

He snorted, turning his head down. Pan spotted the faintest of a smug smirk.

"Yeah, this side of the family thinks I'm completely useless, don't they?" Boxer jested aloud, stopping his swing completely. "I guess I deserve it... but they're wrong."

Pan stopped moving too, letting out the last squeak of the play set. She was curious.

Boxer cocked his head and looked up to the moon. He laughed, "They can think I'm strange all the way they want — but facts are facts, babe. I own my house and I have a career that wasn't handed to me. I might be arrogant but that's a character flaw I've earned to have."

"Wait," Pan interjected, leaning over to his side. She held both their chains in her hand.

The closeness made him sweat.

"You have a _job_?" she giggled, letting go just in time before he pushed her off.

"Ah, you're so mean!"

"I'm kidding!"

Pan jumped off, wobbling as she landed but unfazed as the plastic seat smacked the back of her thighs.

"Seriously," she said, meaning it. "I think that's great. I wish I could say the same about my own life. I don't feel like anything is mine anymore. It kind of sucks."

Boxer leaned forward with his arms on top of his knees, watching her fondly. Despite what he felt and what he knew, he had to allow himself to enjoy the view, even for a little while. For some reason, he felt like they were being watched.

Pan continued on, rambling and unsure why she was confessing so damn much. "I mean, I don't hate it. I like what I do now and where I live. I didn't finish college. I never focused on anything but martial arts. The only other thing I think I'm good at, I'll never have the patience to learn. It's fine, really."

"Then why does it suck?" the dancer inquired plainly. "Even if you were given things, they're still yours... aren't they?"

She shook her head, easily disagreeing.

"It's not that simple, or I never felt like it was. You see, the year I left school, I took this year off. Everyone thought it was a joke, but I just needed to figure out my life myself, you know? I spent the last nineteen years living for other people, doing what I thought I had to do. When it came time to think for myself, I was just lost. I partied a lot, drank a lot, and basically, bullshitted a lot. I don't know what pictures Bra bought from the my former classmates, but I know they're all terrible."

That made them both chuckle. She went on, staring up at the sky.

"The year off was the only thing I was sure about. I was never a homebody type of person, nor do I like routines. Traveling and having my own adventure, it was _liberating_. There were these days I would go swimming at this lake on Mount Paozu with no clothes on. I didn't even care about there were villagers who stopped and stared. I loved all of it."

"Makes me wish _I_ was there."

Pan rolled her eyes, amused, even if he couldn't see it.

"Why did you come back if you were that happy?" Boxer asked, yawning into his hand. "The moment I found my house, I never wanted to go anywhere else."

She shrugged, staring off to the trees now, letting her mind soak in her memories. She laughed, "I only came back because I died. Kind of. I was stuck in this freezing cave, alone. It was rather pathetic. That whole year had me feeling invincible; it made me believe in myself. Then just like that, I was useless."

A breeze passed between them, almost if it was on cue. It gave her the excuse to wipe her face; she complained about have dry eyes.

"I don't know. I won't go into details, but what matters is I'm here, right? I sucked my pride in and came back home. It wasn't bad. No one hassled me about dropping out. I reconnected with my friends, and I fell in love. I got my place, my job, and a whole lot of good that I'm thankful for."

He watched her carefully now, sitting up straight to hold the chains of his seat.

"But it still sucked, didn't it? All that good and yet you were feeling empty."

Pan nodded her head, laughing in short breaths.

"It's _so_ stupid, to be frank with you. I feel like I lost my soul that day in that cave. Every minute since then feels borrowed, so this life doesn't feel like mine— _and even if it was_ , I already gave everything else away. My work has my time and my dignity. I've trained so much that my body just feels like a tool. My heart is with somebody else, and my mind has never had an original thought. Sometimes I don't even know why I still exist. Stupid me."

Boxer snorted. "Why don't you just off yourself then? If it isn't your life, who are you really living for?"

"I don't know," she turned around with an incomplete smile. "Is it conceited to think I still have a purpose in this life?"

"Not at all."

The two stayed there for a while, enjoying the comfortable silence. He then suggested they go inside when the fall of some pots and pans alerted them that they were a distraction.

* * *

" _Shit_ ," Goten cursed, picking up much of the fallen pots and pans. He had been holding onto the rail that suspended all of them in the air, accidentally pulling them all down when he forgot his own strength.

His mother sighed as she stirred the pot on the stove. "You do realize she's too old to spy on anymore, right?" Chichi reprimanded, filling her spoon for her husband to taste. "Besides, she isn't as _eager_ as you were at that age."

Goku giggled, nodding his head to approve the taste. Goten narrowed his eyes over to his parents as he stacked everything on top of the counter.

He pointed out, "Didn't _you_ get married to a man you only met once before?"

"Aren't _you_ the one who took a whole lifetime to even propose?" she huffed, sticking her tongue out. Their relationship had been like this since the wedding was called off.

"I think your soup is sure to cheer up Videl by a lot!" Goku then interrupted, reminding them both why they were in the first place.

The woman muted by grief was sitting at the kitchen counter, mindlessly dragging a straw along the rim of her cup. Gohan was speaking with the other guests in another room. She wasn't much up for everyone's pity wishes. Her mother-in-law was the one who encouraged her to eat before heading up to bed.

Goku carried two steaming bowls in each hand, one for himself and one for his daughter-in-law, sitting in the stool besides hers.

"Thanks," Videl mumbled; it was the first word she spoke the entire evening.

"Chichi used to make this a lot before she was carrying Gohan. It was our favorite thing to eat after sparring. The dumplings fill you up and you're too full to feel anything but happy!" the old man encouraged, taking a big bite himself. He then yelped as his the roof of his mouth began to burn.

Goten chuckled as he poured his own bowl, "Dad, you're supposed to let it cool a bit first."

"But I'm hungry," Goku tried to excuse, as if it was a valid reason.

The younger tried to ignore that, turning his attention to Videl. He advised, "Sis, the best way to eat it is to bite the dumpling first, and then you let the broth fill up the pocket. One bowl is good enough for even dad's appetite!"

"The secret is to eat it fresh and eat it all!" Chichi added in song, carrying the rest of the pot to the buffet table in the other room. "So, no one leaves until they're done."

Goten sat on the other side of his father, happily demonstrating his way to eat Chichi's famous pork dumpling soup. Goku followed in suit, even more ecstatic to find a way to enjoy his food even more. Videl, on the other hand, was barely picking up her spoon.

As the men chewed, they leaned over in their seats to watch her, very adamant that she try their method of eating. She wasn't really in the mood to do so, but she knew they were coming from a good place.

She picked up one dumpling with her spoon, biting the edge to create a hole without nibbling the meat. She lowered her spoon back down and filled the pocket with the soup. When she bit it again, her cheeks grew warm as it traveled down to her stomach slowly.

It made her shed a tear; and slowly, but surely, she was crying over her bowl. Neither man said anything as they both knew it was overdue. They waited with her until she was finished. The kitchen door opened.

Gohan, holding a stack of finished bowls himself, waltz over to the sink before making the move to comfort his wife. Behind her back, he gave his brother and father the thumbs-up to leave her be. As they exited, his mother returned with the two bowls she saved.

"I'll kick everyone out. Pan went to go change upstairs," Chichi whispered. "I already have someone to wash the dishes. You two go on ahead upstairs."

"Thanks, mom. It means a lot," Gohan said, lifting up Videl into his arms. Her sobs were becoming whimpers now, which was a relief to all their ears.

"Just take care of our girl," his mother passed on softly, settling the pot down. "I already put the preheating list on your desk, and you'll have leftovers for the next day or so. Let me know if you need someone to cater the wake."

Videl wiped her face on Gohan's shirt, lifting her head to say thanks. She managed a barely there grin, appreciative. "You're the best mom I never had."

"You're my family too, sweetheart. I'm the _only_ mom you have," Chichi corrected playfully, which allowed both of them to laugh. "Go to bed, you two. I'll take care of everything."

As they finally left, the older woman let out a breath she held in all evening, catching herself before she completely fell. She was lucky that she married someone demanded to be cared for like Goku. Otherwise, she wouldn't even have an _idea_ of how she accomplished the last five hours. Bulma came into the kitchen with a tray of more dishes.

"You think he can wash all of these? I love him and all, but he's had help all of his life," the scientist joked, putting the tray by the sink.

Chichi got up, straightening her apron. "You want her to dance in your little thing, right? This is the best way to do it!"

"You don't think they're going to break anything? The last time they talked—"

Chichi pressed two fingers against Bulma's lipstick. " _Shh_ , you worry about Vegeta. If there's anyone good at relationships, it's me. I've been married the longest. Your strength is fixing things in the lab and mine is fixing people at home."

"But Chichi, they're not even—"

" _Bulma_ , I got this. Saiyan pride has no match for me."

* * *

If there was an ever a blunt difference between his family and Goten's, it was their choices on clothes. His mother practically had a tailor on retainer. Every fabric was fitted, not stretched; patterned, but conservative in color (unless it was red, of course); and not to mention, it didn't make him feel conscious about his smaller frame (well, smaller compared to someone like Goku and Gohan, at least). The only pro he could think of was, at least, it was _comfortable_.

"It's a little emasculating," he mumbled as he stared at himself in the mirror, holding up the long sleeves that past his knuckles. The collar was drooping because it wasn't hemmed.

 _It's a shirt, you doofus_.

"Well, it makes _me_ look like a _toddler_ ," Trunks challenged himself, still analyzing his outfit. He paused for a moment, contemplating. "' _Clothes are clothes, you doofus!_ '" he mimicked, snorting shortly after.

He pushed up the sleeves to his elbows. The shirt wasn't so bad this way. He tucked in the bottom into his sweats, and then, well, took them out because the fabric was making an _unnecessary_ bulge.

"So, you're not even going to turn around and see who's in here with you?"

Trunks shrugged, flattening the shirt against his thighs. "Not really. You don't make an effort to hide yourself, you know. What do you want?"

Bra rolled her eyes, continuing inside the guest room.

"Chichi's finished cooking, so we're going to leave. She made you a plate in the kitchen, but she wanted me to remind you that you promised to wash all the dishes. Are you okay with that?" his sister questioned, settling down on the bed.

"I wouldn't promise if I wasn't going to do it," he rebutted, fixing his newly dried hair now.

"This isn't your ploy to get back with her, is it?" the younger shot back shortly.

Trunks whistled, staring back at her in the mirror. "Straight to the point, are we now?"

" _Listen_." Her brows knitted in the middle. "Any other time, I wouldn't mind, but it takes a _real_ scumbag to pick up a grieving woman. Her heart's been through enough tonight. She doesn't need you to be taking advantage her judgement right now."

"Funny, couldn't you have used the same advice when you messed with my friend?" he retorted, annoyed.

"No," Bra condemned, standing up and pointing a finger at him. "You of _all_ people don't get to judge me. I don't know what Goten told you, but it doesn't matter right now. My best friend is sad, and the only reason why I'm fine with you staying around is because she might need a punching bag."

"So, what? She can mess with me, and I can't mess with her?" Trunks turned around, an indifference over his eyes. He wasn't serious; he was only irritated.

"No, absolutely not," Bra warned firmly, not breaking her stance. "This isn't a game. I know how you feel about her, and it's stupid for you to be childish. I may not understand what she's thinking right now about her own life, but she's always been certain about you. It's always been _you_ since I've known her. When she drank that first beer with you, do you know how scared I was for her? I knew you'd break her like all your other girls. When she told me that all you guys did was talk, I was surprised... but I was sad for her. She put aside this _lifelong_ _crush_ just so she could be your friend.

"Next thing I know, you're teasing her with your stupid flirting! Do you know why she had to avoid you that whole month before we left on vacation? It's because her feelings for you started to make her irrational, and she couldn't handle that. Pan's always been her _own_ person. Once she feels weak or feels like she has no control, she loses it. I think a person who claims to know her well should be aware of that," she chastised, backing him against the dresser.

"Look, I fucked up with your friend. I can accept that. He'll never love me the way I deserved to be loved anyway, and _it_ _hurts_... but that's just me being insecure. We both can bounce back. Pan isn't the same way. You don't think it pains her to know that it's her fault she can't be with you? Or, hell, that every time you two interact now, it's bad argument? Give her a break! She's twenty-two. Her reasoning isn't sound. You, on the other hand? You're old as shit. You're smart enough to not be so childish."

Bra stepped back, catching her breath. Trunks dared not to even utter a single syllable.

"I love you. You're my brother... but Pan? She's my heart. We fight, but it's unconditional between us. If you can't say the same, then why are you wasting your time and hers? She already tried to make it up to you, but you just shut her down. Then, _what_? You try to give her flowers without showing your face? If you want her like you say you do, you don't quit after one bad thing. You keep trying. That's what she deserves."

* * *

Brutus peered onto the glass imprisoning the so-called prince. For someone claiming to be so powerful, he was quiet easy to catch and moronic enough to think he could get away. The loyal officer watched intently, as if he was waiting for him to wake up.

"It's a shame, isn't it? Taken out by his own lover's invention," cooed Kuriza as he went through the files on the patrolman. "I find it to be more pathetic that no one's looking for him."

"Lord Kuriza, may I ask what you plan on doing with Vegeta? I thought our objective had been the hybrid children," the officer reminded, not breaking his watch.

The tyrant sighed, "More unnecessary questions, have you? Luckily, I'm in a good mood, Brutus. I'll tell you what we'll do with our new pet. After all, why should we get our own hands dirty? Father would be satisfied."

Brutus didn't respond, knowing his place. Earlier, they were almost ambushed by the old Saiyan when they were picking up things from the girl's place again. He had been astonished to see Lord Kuriza, so much so he went down like nothing. Now, they kept him in a container with a device holding the battery.

A ring from the screen chimed in before Kuriza had a chance to further his plans. It was a call between two lines; he pressed a button on the remote beside him, listening intently.

" _Sorry for calling so late. I hope you understand._ "

" _I work for you, doll. What's the issue?_ "

* * *

Pan managed to get her hands on a phone. (The house phone, but she liked sitting on the kitchen floor with the cord wrapped around her leg.) Despite the oddness of the day, she wanted to keep in touch with her manager for the funeral services. Being that she had worked under her grandpa too, the older woman didn't mind helping.

"Hercule and I already reserved a plot, so don't worry about it!" Miss. Piiza, her manager, insisted. Pan could hear the tiredness in her voice, but she was adamant. "Sorry I couldn't make it to the hospital. I tried to get a cab there and the streets were flooded. We might need to host a public memorial, doll. Are you up for that?"

"I guess I need to. I missed that conference because I was sick, and I'm going to miss the next week so I can be with my family. I have to make it somehow, right?" she laughed gently, laying her head back against the wall. "Also, I might need a working phone. Can you make that happen?"

Piiza practically gasped on the other line. "Are my ears deceiving me? You actually want to be _cooperative_?"

"Hey, I'm agreeable most days! I just don't like when you put me in those dumb costumes or try to make martial arts into something it's not," Pan sassed, mentally reminding herself to be less difficult to work with. "Thank you, by the way. You're the reason why everyone's changed their opinion on me. I should be more grateful."

"Yes, you should," her manager concurred, giggling the next minute. "But actually, you're just difficult because you're smart, doll. That commercial idea was genius, much better than what I was going to make you do. I rather someone be smart than have an ego!"

She smiled at that. "Thanks... do you think we would be able to move the tournament to October instead of November?"

"I would have to call all the vendors, but why do you ask? I thought the goal was after the gyms were built."

"Well, I could hurry that up. The only reason why I was slowing that down was because I wanted everyone to get paid fairly, but we could pay the construction company in advance. With all this media attention, we wouldn't have to hold an official memorial. The statue for the temple is already built. We'll dedicate a moment for him then— _before_ _the matches_. I don't want everyone to be miserable when the day ends. Plus, I want to keep my parents out the public eye as much as I can."

Piiza was pleased.

"Finally, you understand how it all works," she complimented, quickly wishing Pan goodbye. She signed off with, "I'll get everything done. See you in two days."

When they hung up, Pan was kind of happy. She planned to have the next couple of days with her parents, smothering them in attention until they themselves wanted her to leave. It had been a long while since she had been home anyway. Even it was a sad reason to be motivated by, she just wanted to do some good. A big chuck of her just wanted to do some _good_.

She sat there for a while, pushing her head against the wall. The last time she had been in this kitchen was so vague in her memory now... March, was it? When she was packing up her things and moving to her penthouse? All of the men in her family were torn between wanting her to grow up and wanting her to be a kid forever, but she couldn't stay that way.

She wanted her own place, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember why. She was always trying to leave home back then, spending the night at Bra's after training or crashing on Marron and Goten's couch. The ironic part was that she didn't even know how much time she actually spent at her place.

First, she moved in and then she left for a couple of weeks. She came back for 20 minutes, and then went to stay with Buu for the rest of the summer. Her short week of being injured brought her back, but then she was traveling so much for work.

Even today, this terribly _long_ day, she had only stayed behind because she was sick. She had been planning to leave as soon as she sneezed her last sniffle. Sadly, she wasn't even planning to say goodbye.

Pan would blame part of it being an "adult," but in truth, she was just such a bad person at communication. She knew that. No matter how blunt she can be, she never said what she really wanted to say to people, nothing that mattered. Even tonight, she had practically admitted to things she was terrified to admit, but Boxer wasn't the person she needed to say those things to.

" _Damn it_ ," she hissed under her breath, chuckling to herself. Tonight was forgivable, but things had to get better.

Pan stood up, dusting herself off. Her soup was cold now, but it didn't bother her that much. She sat on the counter, legs crossed. It was a bad habit that her mom used to yell at her for.

The door opened and to say that she was surprised would be an exaggeration. A part of her knew he'd be here; it was only a matter of time. No matter what state their relationship was in, it wasn't in his nature to leave her hanging.

"I assume Bra sent you here to get me to talk about my feelings," Pan mused, wiping the edge of her lips. He was so out of place with those ill-fitting clothes.

Trunks didn't let his face give him away. He tried to excuse himself, "Actually, I came to wash the dishes." He pointed to the full sink of pots and pans. "If you're done with that, then I can take care of it."

"Didn't she make you a plate too?" She nodded to the other bowl of cold soup on the counter. "I won't bite, I promise."

He was hesitant, looking back and forth between her and the sink. Finally, he just gave in. In all honesty, he wasn't even hungry. What he learned on that island was enough for him to lose his appetite for a while. Trunks pulled up the stool farthest away from her—which wasn't far considering she sat in the middle of the counter. There was a seat between them.

They both ate for a bit, letting the awkward silence marinate between them. Finally, after another two minutes, both he and Pan thought the dish wasn't as great when it was cold.

She was the first one to make a move, settling her bowl beside her. Pan admitted despite her embarrassment, "I called you several times today, but I'm assuming you don't have your phone on you."

"You _what_?" He was a bit stunned, a bit pissed, and then he felt remorseful. Nonetheless, the first thing he knew he had to say was, "I'm sorry. I wasn't purposely ignoring you... you know I wouldn't."

"Yeah, that's why I'm not pissed. Actually, I'm a little relieved. I kind of sound like a crazy person on all of the messages I left." Her forced smile disappeared in the same second. She tried to laugh it off, but it didn't work. "I would like it best if you didn't listen to them. They're, um, a bit _all over the place_."

"Then I won't," Trunks said plainly in attempt to assure her. "If it's stuff you don't want me to hear, then I won't listen to them."

"Thanks..."

"It's not a problem."

She knew he was giving her time to collect herself, and she couldn't complain about it. One more word, she would've been crying and she didn't want to cry in front of him. Not because of the way they were, but because she was tired of being teary today. Crying was such a chore.

Trunks got up, and like he had been asked, he went to go wash the dishes. They both would've liked to say it took 20 minutes tops, but it was roughly two and half hours later until he was scrubbing off the last pot. His hands were prunes by the time he was actually done.

When he turned around, she was still there, still sitting on the counter with her legs crossed. His face grew a little warm at how intense her staring was. Seriously, did she even blink?

"Forgive me for my timing, but I've decided to tell you something." Pan jumped off the counter, walking closer to him until he was holding onto the sink. He was a bit unsettled considering the last time he was backed up by someone smaller than him.

He tried not to flinch as she was standing inches away and breathing the same space. "Can I ask what this something is?"

"I'll just tell you," she proclaimed, a look of clarity on her face. This time, her amusement was genuine. "You probably won't listen to the messages, but in case you do, I should be honest. I would say _I think_ , but no part of me is unsure about this... I _know_ that I'm in love with you. It's unfortunate considering our circumstances, but I don't care enough for you to love me back anyway... I wanted to tell you this because honestly, I think it hurts me more if you're walking around thinking I never did."

There was an ache in his gut, the kind a person would feel if they swallowed an anvil and let gravity do its work. Everything about him was heavy, like his feet were planted there and the roots grew to the Earth's core eons ago. Being hit by bricks was the equivalent of being tickled by feathers; what he was impacted with now was the sun, and he didn't survive the first burn.

" _You love me_? Like, really, really, really _love me_?"

"Yes. Isn't it stupid?"

 _Yes_ was his initial answer because, _yes_ , it was incredibly stupid to love a person like him — a man who was nearing thirty-seven, still living at home with his parents, still sleeping in his teenaged bedroom, still answering to everyone else, and still as clueless... just had _no business_ in being someone deserving of love. Nonetheless, _unconditionally_ loved by the only person he wanted to love back.

 _No_ was his next choice because, _no_ , it was more stupid that they did this hateful dance for no other reason than pride. _No_ , because he too knew that he was in love with her, and he didn't care if she didn't love him back. _No_ , because as terrible timing as this all was, he felt an ache in his gut, a pain that told him the truth of his feelings.

He was terribly, madly in love with the person in front of him, but due to his own cowardice, he wasn't good enough for her, not the way he wanted to be good enough for anybody. Even with an opening right in front of him now, he still couldn't say it. It was caught in his breath like their last heavy conversation.

And sadly, though a part of her had been relieved to tell him the her truth of where her heart belonged, the confession she had earlier still rang through her head. As much as she just _wanted_ to give him all of her, to give him what she knew he deserved, she was still incomplete, and still not her own to give away.

They were two parallel lines; the _same_ , the _never-ending_ , and the _always out of reach_.

"Again, I don't care if you don't love me back," Pan repeated, chuckling despite her sad eyes. She was trying to convince herself more than anything. "But tonight, can we pretend a little, even for a short while?"

* * *

To say sleep was a natural occurrence was to say that the sky was always purple. It wasn't true most of the time, and it especially wasn't true right now.

Marron hated how big the bed felt when she slept alone. It was like she was constantly waiting for someone to crawl beside her and steal the sheets. Nothing felt more unloving than a cold side of a worn-out mattress.

She sat up, bringing her knees to hug. It was unusually quiet on her side of town, and she wondered why for a bit. She had made a point to disconnect the TV, turn off her phone, and even lock up her laptop on her desk. Trunks was into keeping up with the news and social media, but she never really gotten around to it. It was more like posting online only when she had something to brag about it. It was silly, but wasn't that what most people used it for anyway?

There was a giant clock above the dresser across from the bed, with the big hand on the 11 and the little one on the same. It was such an ugly piece, a rusting copper helm with unmatching numbers and a ridiculously busty mermaid wrapped around it. She always hated it. The novelty of the clock never matched the rest of their furniture.

"Remember when _you_ were the other woman?" the teacher said, despondency in her grin. She stared at the ceramic figure, settling her head against her shoulder. "He was so proud to bring you home that he made it seem like he was doing _me_ a favor. We didn't even have a bed, at the time."

Marron would've continued to talk to the inanimate object, however, she wasn't that desperate for friends.

"Mare? C'mon, I see that you're awake," said the last voice she wanted to hear tonight followed by a small tapping of the window.

She whispered to the mermaid, "You did something, didn't you?" Nonetheless, she made her way to push open the shutter, not allowing him entry but her presence was enough. She coughed, "Can I help you, Goten?"

He pulled something out of his pocket, waving the small handheld device. "Trunks had your phone. I guess you two accidentally traded."

"I see," she observed thoughtfully. Knowing her friend, he wouldn't send her ex to return her things, so how Goten got his hands on her phone was questionable. "I'll give him his phone tomorrow when I see him."

She was about to close it when he pulled out another "gift," a small cardboard box with a cupcake inside of it. There was an ATM two blocks from her place that dispensed the treats. They were her favorites when she was craving something sweet.

"I swear this isn't me trying to get on your good side. I just... Well, your birthday was always something you gave up so we could do something together. I didn't want you to celebrate alone," he said, offering her the box. "I have to go home anyway, so I won't bother you."

Marron paused, staring at the pink frosting behind the clear film. She felt ridiculous asking, but it was a slip of the tongue. "Is it really my birthday today? I swear it was next week..."

"Um, it's _my_ birthday," he corrected, scratching the back of his head. "But yeah... I'm going to be on my way. Happy 36th, Mare. Be safe."

* * *

Pan had led him to her old room, which, fortunately, wasn't anywhere near her parents'. There was a small tower that intersected between the L-shaped building, and on top of it was a dome-shaped room. She mentioned that it easier for her dad to pretend she had her own apartment here than living on her own in the city. He joked about the irony.

Her old room was much less personal than what he had expected it to be, and maybe that's because all of her stuff was gone except a few pieces of furniture and some weights. He made a comment about it looking like a deserted gym. She pointed up to the ceiling windows, noting how dark the sky was and how light it would become.

"We don't have a lot of time," she begrudgingly admitted, disappointed. They stood in front of the bed. "Can you kiss me now?"

Wordless, he answered with his tongue tracing the shape of hers. It was slow and warm, something like the beach day they never had. Quickly, he peeled off his shirt and she threw hers. Touching skin came in waves; first, all at once, and next, they needed some air to breathe after drowning for so long. He kicked off his pants and she straddled his lap, moving the hair out of his face.

"I said we don't have _a lot_ of time but there's still _some_ time," she joked, pressing her forehead against his. The ghost of her breath only teased him into a smirk.

"Maybe I just don't want to play like the last time. I just want to make you feel good _now_ ," he proclaimed firmly, moving a hand beneath her to tug on her shorts. "I want these off."

Pan laughed as if he was kidding, "I thought you said I was cuter when I was squirming? You're not so fun when you're eager yourself."

" _Mmhmm_ ," he mumbled, ignoring the want for a game. His lips reached her neck as his hand pulled her hair, making her skin vulnerable to his teeth.

Alternating between kisses and nibbling, he left markers of where he'd been all over the crook, her collarbone, and the valley of her chest. When she was as high as she could go on her knees, he flipped her over and laid her down, focusing his attention back on her breasts, tearing her bra apart.

"You could've _asked_."

"Can't I show you how strong I've gotten?"

"I never said you were weak in the first place..."

That, admittedly, made him laugh as he was dumbfounded. He wasn't thinking much anyway.

"You want to go slow?" he wondered, brushing her hair out of her face as he laid beside her. "We can go slow if you want to."

A small blush crossed her face. It made her feel so _girlish_ for wanting him to be gentle. "I just want to enjoy it... I already know you're good in bed, but I want you to be with me for a while. It'll last longer that way."

He chuckled, "You want to pretend this is our first time? That's cute of you."

"Don't make it sound so... _like that_." Pan sighed, feeling she would regret this down the line, "Was your first time any great?"

"... Is this some kind of trick so you can be mad at me later?"

"No, _doofus_. I genuinely want to know. Honest," she swore, placing her hand on her chest (though it was the wrong hand).

Trunks then thought about it, _trying_ to remember at least. It wasn't that he was something of a "dog" _but_ —

"I can't think of that when you're right in front of me," he coughed up, hoping she would swallow it. Of course, she was smarter than that.

"You don't remember, do you? _See_ , that's my point! Mine wasn't that memorable either. Sex is easy, but it's the being together part that is more complicated..."

"Wait, who was _your_ first time with?"

She flicked him between the eyes.

" _Ow_ ," he pretended to cry, holding back a laugh.

"You don't get to know mine unless you remember yours."

Trunks let out a breath, giving in. "Alright, alright. Slow, I got you. You want to _make love_."

Pan grimaced at the corny wording, sticking out her tongue. "Why does that leave a bad taste in my mouth?"

"Let me replace it then," he told her, dragging his finger on her taste buds. He eyed her carefully, seeing her eyes wide at the sudden movement until she began to ease, until she found her trust in him again.

His hands traveled along her skin, leaving goosebumps in their passing. The warmth of his breath trapped inside her mouth, twisting itself in hurricanes along her tongue. It was suffocating, it was hot, it was being enveloped in flames, and it was _lovely_. His touch was squeezed between her thighs, grazing passively, heading way to the valley that longed to be felt.

The saliva dripped from the corner of her lips as his head pressed against hers. Tasting the stale air of the old room only made her dislike being disconnected even more. She gripped his shoulders, wanting to hold his face to kiss him again, but her fingers dug into his skin as his fingers dug into hers. She bit her lip to contain her small whimper.

"Was that too fast?" he asked, reading her expression exactly. His eyes hadn't left her since they broke apart.

"Just a little. I haven't done anything since the last time we were together, actually," she admitted with an apologetic smile.

"I can't say I'm not flattered," an amused snicker left him. "You kind of got into it with yourself the last time..."

" _Stop it_ ," she rolled her eyes, chuckling. Her heart felt at ease. "Can I slide off my shorts? You're making me hot."

Trunks maneuvered between her legs, tugging on both the elastic of her shorts and underwear, tossing them both aside to some part of the room. He pulled her by her ankles closer to him until she was wrapped around his waist.

"I... I've been thinking about something too," he muttered, helping her sit up on his lap. He held onto the small of her back. "This thing... this _whatever we have_... I want us to make a promise—a couple promises, actually."

"Let me guess, you still want to sleep together?" Pan teased, rubbing her touch along his spine. "Not that I would oppose to it, but I'm not sure the next time our schedules can align."

"No, not that... though I wouldn't mind if we kept that between friends," he said, quickly changing his tone. Trunks became more serious. "But quiet a little so I can speak my piece... I need you to know that I don't want to be with anybody else. It sounds naive, but this is _it_ for me. If I had to choose something to invest in, it's you. Do you understand?"

She only nodded, a lost for words. She didn't, never would, like to be ordered around, but there was something in his voice that had her in a trance. She was hanging onto every word leaving his lips.

"I want you to promise me that regardless of how we feel about each other, we'll still be in each other's lives. If you have something going on, I want to be the person you confide in. If _I_ have something going on, I want you to be the person I talk to. It doesn't worry me if we can't be together for a moment. I'll wait until we're both in Other World if I have to."

 _A death vow_ , she pondered. Pan felt her jaw tightened, annoyed by the last statement. There was something that panicked inside of her, thinking of the possibility of having to wait a _lifetime_ in order to be happy—yet, in her mind, _even if it is pessimism_ , there was a part of her that saw no other way. There was something in her gut telling her that's how they would see this through.

At the same time, a sudden, insecure song of _lie, lie, lie_ started to play in her head. He was so bold to make these promises when he hadn't even admitted that he loved her... and she _knew_ he did. Call it entitlement, but she knew her heart was not misplaced. She just wanted to hear it at least once, while they were both still here.

"The second thing I want you to promise me," Trunks cut through her thoughts, not that either of them had broken their stares anyway. "I _need_ you to promise me that in a year's time, we'll resolve what we need to resolve on our own and get married. I don't want to wait like my parents did, or anybody else for that matter."

"Y... you want to get mar- _married_?" Pan hated herself for stuttering, but he wasn't wavering on his proposal. Suddenly, she wanted to puke. "W-Wow, _huh_ , that's something, isn't it?"

"In a _year_ , relax. I don't want to be married now," he repeated, trying not to let his feelings be offended. He had to admit to himself that this was kind of rash, but this was the only thing he was sure for his future. "But eventually, I would like to get married... legally," he added the last part for several reasons.

Pan remained still and _quiet_. For one, marriage was something that crossed her mind. Both her parents and grandparents were firm believers of commitment, and commitment with one person. The idea wasn't foreign.

What was, however, was the idea of _her_ settling down in a single place without complaint. Right now, a wedding ring seemed like the equivalent of an orange jumpsuit, cement chains around her ankles, and handcuffs tightening around her wrists.

Not to mention, she really, really, _really_ hated the idea that she was getting proposed to while she was naked with an ex. That seemed to be the biggest blow to her ego, and she was having a self-pity party less than 24 hours ago.

Her brows furrowed, still contemplating.

"You're not really going to let me just have this, are you?" Trunks narrowed his eyes dully, sighing very loudly inside his head.

She pouted, undecided. Pan only offered with a rose streak across her face, "I just need some time..."

"I understand," he told her sincerely, pushing her closer toward him. His chin settled on the crook of her neck, making a home of somewhere that didn't belong to him yet. "Please, take however long you need. I only want you to say yes when you're completely sure."

"Thank you," she said, laying her head against his. She wished she had another answer for him. A frown soured on her face.

"... Pan?"

"Yes?"

Trunks took a deep breath, holding onto her tighter.

"I know there's something I should say before asking you to marry me... but I'm not ready for that yet. I do feel the same about you though. Sorry for making this awkward," he admitted as his voice trailed into a silence. "I just didn't expect for you to come back to me so soon."

She questioned carefully, "Is there a reason why you can't say you love me? Did you meet someone else?" In truth, the answer in both of those didn't matter to her. Pretending wasn't going smoothly as she had hoped, especially when there was nothing fraudulent of what they both felt.

"I..." He bit down on his jaw, feeling curiously worse right about now. "I've never been good at this kind of thing, you know? I'm not sure how it's supposed to work, but I can see why we're failing. You ever get confronted by so many problems that you can't see a single solution? That all the bad blinds you so much that you can't see the good?"

She was convinced, "Yes."

"I promise none of this is speaking out of my ass, but it's unsettling, how ignorant I am with you. I thought I knew all I had to know, but little by little, I'm learning I know less and less... but the thing is, you're not the problem I'm having, it's myself. I assume too much, and I don't listen enough. When I told you to be with me or get lost, I didn't realize _I'm_ the one who gave you the option to leave. I got pissed when you went to my office because it wasn't _me_ controlling the situation..."

"But you're not only bad guy here," she tried to comfort him. "I was the one being rash too. I'm the one who expected things to be alright just because some time passed."

"No," he settled, cursing himself in his head. He hated realizing things too late. "You give me so many chances to be the better person, and I disappoint you every time... I don't want to be that with you. I _never_ want to be that with you. I know this sucks, but I can't say that I love you because I'm not the person I want you to be loved by. You deserve better. We both do..."

As the last syllable out of his mouth disappeared from the echos of the nearly empty room, she heard something shattering. Even if it wasn't audible to him, she felt it, the chuck dropping from her chest and sinking to the bottom of her gut. Crying was really starting to become a _chore_.

"Damn," Pan jested as her last line of defenses were giving her away now. A few tears dripped from her cheeks and down his back. She didn't have any control. "You really have to break my heart this way, don't you?"

He pulled back, brows furrowing at her unhappy face. Two things he also began to hate: being the cause of such a dismal expression, and the sound of his voice cracking when he only bargained with, " _I'm so sorry_."

"Don't," She begged, wiping her eyes between the back of her elbow. She came up smiling, teeth and all. "Seriously, don't feel sorry. I mean, I want you to love me sooner but I can't rush you. If I did, you won't feel how much I feel right about now... Just don't take too much time, alright? I kind of already love you a lot."

His chest began to tingle, and his face did something of a blush. His only weapon was deflection.

"You're a real headcase," Trunks admired, slowly being infected with her contagious laugh. "But a _cute_ headcase," he tried to save himself.

Pan sighed, hugging him again. She felt comfortable being intertwined with him like this. She took no offense, though her insides were sore. A moment passed, but it wasn't long enough. She looked up, seeing the birds fly by across the more blue sky.

"The sun's coming up. Would you like to continue or has the mood gone entirely?" she tread carefully, yawning shortly after. Sleep was still the last thing on her mind.

Trunks quipped quietly, as if he was really thinking about doing other things. "I mean, it isn't morning yet, is it? We still have _some_ time. It's up to you."

She laughed.

"Now, _you're_ the headcase."

Not long after, Trunks buried his face in her skin, tracing the curve of her neck's crook with a sharp tongue and a look of pride as his earlier bites were darkening. He held her thighs, pulling them apart and settling her on top of his. Her hips began tirelessly grinding faster with every hot breath.

There was something about the wetness dripping from his leg that felt victorious.

"Growing tired, _peaches_?"

"You're still trying to make that a thing?" she hissed, grabbing his face. When he thought he was getting a lecture, she kissed hard, pushing him back until they both fell over to the floor.

It was his turned to be hot and bothered as she laid him down and started to rock back and forth on the growing bulge from his briefs. She held his hands above his head as she bobbed for his tongue, sucking on the muscle and sending a tingle all through his nerves from his throat.

Pan sat up, wiping her lips and feeling a bit smug at how fast she got him going.

"There's nothing ' _slow_ ' about this," he observed, amused. _Cowering_. His breath was caught somewhere between his lungs and his lips, _gulping_.

She tugged on the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down on the middle of his thighs.

"Can I?"

"Yes."

* * *

"Alright, so you move just like that, okay?"

"Heh, I think my legs are going to give out..."

Boxer watched them dully, yawning in the back of his hand. No one was going to sleep until Trunks or Vegeta came home anyway— _but_ _honestly_ —when he told her to get _serious_ about her dancing, he didn't mean for her to get serious _now_. He wanted to watch TV.

She was even running out of _breath_.

"Are you sure you want to run through this again?" asked her partner, cautious of the sweat dripping from her temples and the shake in her legs that weren't going away.

"Yeah, let's do this," Bra settled with a look of determination, despite everything in her body screaming for her to stop.

Uub lifted Bra by the waist again, took two steps, placed her down, took three back, spun her around, and then pulled her back. The choreography wasn't too complicated to pick up, but she was stiff in some key parts, throwing off the dance completely.

"Sorry," she whispered, apologizing for stepping onto his foot again. Uub was obviously tired, but he kept a gentle expression. She knew he had been meaning to go home hours ago, but he stayed around to learn the dance out of her insistence.

 _And honestly?_

Bra wanted nothing more than for Boxer to be the reason for her previous mistakes. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, being that she was the one struggling and holding them both back. Uub picked it up within the first run-through.

"I don't know why I'm obligated to watch this mess. You're too tense," Boxer commented bluntly, narrowing his eyes at her. "He's already picked it up and he just got here."

" _I know that_ ," she muttered, trying to concentrate on her footing in the mirror. Her second left foot almost tripped her partner. The island boy caught himself graciously.

"Maybe you're just thinking about Pan," Uub tried his best to be understanding while also, coincidentally, trying to catch his breath. "Or maybe you're just not comfortable with me."

Bra rolled her eyes. "You don't have to sugarcoat it. The bastard is right, unfortunately. Dancing isn't one of my strong suits... but I can learn! I can learn _anything_!" she declared a little too loud.

"Not in a single night, dumbass." Boxer got up, adjusting his robe. He didn't have the energy to argue. "We have three months anyway, so don't worry about it. Uub can help you practice when you're not working, or working out with your dad—and of course, when you're not practicing with the rest of us. I'm out of here."

Bra furrowed her brows. "Where are you going? You're the choreographer! Give us some direction, you little—!"

The dancer interjected before she finished her sentence. He really didn't want to hear it, nor would he tolerate it.

"Yeah? Then, why don't you two go do something together beside dancing? Call it partner study, and leave me out of it," Boxer rebutted to his cousin, exiting.

The dancer made it down the hall, no particular direction in his mind. He just kept walking until he was in front of a door-less room. He leaned against the metal frame.

On the newly put together bed, there sat a woman clutching a camera between her hands, skimming through the pictures on the roll. It was hard to read her face. Much was indifference, but another much seemed disappointed.

"Let me guess, you're in love with someone who doesn't care that you exist?" he interrupted the assistant.

Mai didn't even flinch. She kept pressing the arrow keys until she stopped at the picture again, the one where Trunks was sleeping. "I think you're projecting," she said pragmatically.

Boxer chuckled to himself, amused. He walked in, sitting a few feet away from her. "Then what is it? It's like you're asking to be caught in this little scene here." He ticked off with a smugness that deserved a punch in the face. "In his room, on his bed, wearing something I assume he'd like... _Oh_? You even have red lipstick on. That's hot."

"You really are insufferable, aren't you?" Mai droned, disgust in her grimace.

He shrugged. "So I've been told. I have no qualms about it."

"Well then," she ventured, pressing a few more buttons. The viewfinder stopped at a picture of a happy couple in the snow, plastered with joy on their face with a ball-shaped robot. Mai handed the camera to Boxer. "Neither do I. He's not mine to worry about."

The dancer took the device between his palms, staring back at the smiling girl holding onto a lover, maybe. The photograph looked like it belong on a generic Christmas card, mass-produced for the whole world to see and no one to question about.

He snorted, "What a lovely pair. What do they have to do with the either of us?"

"She's the one you were going to ask to be your dance partner, yes? How about we have some fun?" Mai smirked.

* * *

 _End_.


End file.
